


Two sides of the same heart

by AchillesLament (11Mydesign11), You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Rejseholdet | Unit One
Genre: Angst and Feels, Dark Will Graham, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fishing, GET READY FOR ALL THE FEELS, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Manipulative Will Graham, Pining, Post Season 3, Role Reversal, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Stalking, becoming, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-07-05 17:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15868197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11Mydesign11/pseuds/AchillesLament, https://archiveofourown.org/users/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am/pseuds/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am
Summary: After the fall over that eroding bluff, Will Graham has to not only deal with the loss of Hannibal Lecter, but his uncertainty as to what he should do next. That is until he ends up in Denmark and finds Allan Fischer - a handsome detective that very much looks likeil Mostro.What will happen when the two meet? Who will become forever changed or are they really just the same?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Sad mentions of Hannibal's demise - he's not in this story but referenced. We know... it hurt us too. *passes tissues and warm hot cocoa*

_Cold._

The water was so cold, and the air was knocked right out of him. Will saw Winston, Buster, all of the members of his pack, and then Hannibal.

They'd gone over the edge and before he knew it, he was on shore. Alone.

It was eerie. The teacup was broken as Hannibal would say but would it - would _they_ \- come back together?

Not this time. He wasn’t alone on that shore. Hannibal washed up seconds later, and Will rushed to his side.

***

In the months that followed, Will couldn't shake it. Hannibal was gone. They should have went together. _Conjoined._ That was the plan. Will drank more on his travels, after healing. He ended up in Denmark. He'd avoided Italy. Hannibal had wanted to show him Florence and it didn't seem right to see without him. Denmark was nice enough but the world felt... empty.

No room in his skull for anything he loved. _Just Hannibal._

And a staggering regret. Will did ache for him. He needed nourishment and above all else, he loved him, very much.

He’d once again been shown a negative to see a positive.

Now there were just... waves. The cold rolling Atlantic pumping in his ears.

_This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us._

Will heard the empty glass in his hand shatter. He'd spaced out again, only this time, it wasn't a disease it was.... heartache. Over and over he replayed ways in which he might have avoided losing Hannibal.

It was no use. He laughed ironically at himself and thought that if Hannibal could somehow see him now, he'd know. There _was_ a decisive victory. Hannibal won, even if he wasn't there to see it.

***

One morning after months in a foreign country, Will awoke in his bed. He noted, as usual, that there were no heavenly smells in the house - surely if Doctor Lecter were there, he'd be making some garish breakfast for the two of them. Will sighed; he felt like he was losing himself. Fading.

_You're not alone, Will. I'm standing right beside you._

Only he was alone in that darkness. Being gutted had nothing on this. He should be happy, shouldn't he?

He wasn't.

By the time the coffee was made, he noticed the dried blood on his hand from the smashed whiskey tumbler the night before.

"Fuck," Will murmured and went to wash up. He looked at himself in the mirror for a good five minutes. His hair was no longer groomed as it had been. He had a full beard. Dark circles under his piercing, but blood shot eyes.

If only Hannibal could see him now.

That's when he smiled. It wasn't exactly one of goodwill, no, there was darkness there.

_Adapt. Evolve. Become._

That's what he'd do.

After eating some left over fish and eggs for breakfast, he downed his coffee and got dressed. He trimmed up his beard, combed his freshly washed hair, and put on a nicer flannel. Blue with brown pants.

Will wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do, but he needed to feel closer to Hannibal.

_You're afraid you'll become him._

Maybe he would do just that.

***

The first hour he just drove around. Not much of anything was happening but he did listen in on the police radio to see if he could make anything of interest out. He read the papers. He'd learned a bit of Danish at least. Enough that it was passable for basic conversation.

With no luck, seemingly, Will was about to go home altogether when he caught a flash. Cheekbones. Full lips. Powerful eyes. Will almost ran off the small side street.

"H-Hannibal?" Will gasped to himself, even if no one could hear. It couldn't be. He'd seen Hannibal take his last breath. He'd held his hand on that beach. They'd shared a kiss just before. Hannibal had forgiven him, and confessed his love just after that, and then the fire in those maroon eyes had been doused by that salty water. So to speak. Will had held him and cried for as long as he could that night.

But now? Shit, was he hallucinating again? Will needed to know for certain.

Quickly, he turned into a convenience store and parked around back. After locking up, he grabbed his gun, tucked it in his pants and began to run towards.... the ghost of Hannibal Lecter.

His breath was shaky, just as his hands were, and with a ball of nerves ever growing and swirling like a cloud of dark, swarming flies, he hid behind the brush, waiting to see again.

He did.

There walking out of some sort of building - Will wasn't sure what - was the spitting image of Hannibal Lecter. A younger version, one similar to the picture he'd seen in Italy, only with darker hair. It wasn't as neat, and this man was smoking. And speaking in Danish. Will's eyes were large with surprise, his lips parted as he watched. Was he related to Hannibal? No. Hannibal would have mentioned a brother.

That's when Will caught a flash of the gun, and the badge. He almost barked out a laugh but stopped himself. That was ironic. A detective. Will could tell considering what his line of work used to be. But the man looked identical to Hannibal and once again, he was grinning.

Was the stranger capable or did the similarities stop with the outer casing? Doctor Lecter wouldn't dress that way, or be caught smoking like that, but Will was _curious_ to find out.

_Wind him up, watch him go._

Once the detective finally left, Will was right back in his car, following at a safe distance to see where he lived and after that, he went back home.

Suddenly, he could feel Hannibal again and he would chase that feeling.

***

Over the next few weeks Will was almost always nearby the detective. He watched from safe distances, observing. Some might say stalking, like a snake this time, or a lion stalking a mongoose or other prey. He'd learned the man’s name was Allan Fischer, a Danish detective in the area and one who was a bit of a ‘black sheep’ in the force.

This is _my_ design.

Will was becoming obsessed. Intrigued. Interested.

_Can’t live with him, can’t live without him._

He knew it wasn't entirely logical, it wasn't what he ever would have done before, but he didn't care.

Finally, Will decided enough was enough. He needed to speak to Allan. Know him. _See_ him. He imagined that Hannibal would be proud of his work. He’d admire it. Although he'd have killed Allan by now. Hannibal never liked having his identity taken from him.

Be that as it may, Will considered dining on Allan. Having a part of him inside, like he should have done with Hannibal, had he not needed to get away fast and far.

No. He wouldn't do that.

This was a opportunity. One he _wouldn't_ let go to waste.

***

The next day, Will went to the coffee shop that he'd realized Allan often went to in the mornings and waited. When he saw his opportunity, Will looked down at his phone, walking and pretending to be distracted. He bumped right into the detective, knowing it was a bit sloppy, but it would do for an opener. Keep it simple.

"Oh, um, shit," Will began, smiling seemingly nervously at the man who looked so much like Hannibal Lecter it hurt. Even more so this close. "I'm sorry. I should have been... been looking."

Keen amber eyes focused quickly as the other man held out his coffee cup. Eyes that lingered a little too long. “It’s alright. No harm done. But yes you should watch where you’re going, especially with the bicyclists. They’ll run you right over,” he grinned good naturedly.

That smile. Will could feel the sincerity behind it and he was allowing himself to fully read Allan. He needed to know. His heart truly ached, but he could wear a mask as well. At present, it was a shining veneer of happiness, peppered with truth enough to make it real. It was a jagged pill, and there was a bitter-sweetness that hung in the air.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Will responded, chuckling. He put away his phone and offered his hand - not something he did often. “Will Graham, and you are? I’d… like to know the name of the man I almost knocked over.”

There was some hesitation, but then the man extended his hand. “Fischer, Allan Fischer,” he answered. With no idea who this American was, Fischer didn’t feel compelled to reveal his occupation. Not yet.

Will noticed the hesitation, and hell, he wasn’t sociable either. He had a purpose, a plan now.

He nodded, giving a close mouthed smiled as he looked at Allan through his lashes, inhaling and exhaling very purposefully.

“Well I won’t keep you, I’d offer to buy you a coffee, but it seems as though you already have one,” Will said, looking at the cup as he rubbed at his beard thoughtfully.

Fischer’s cheeks warmed, slightly shy when he noticed how blue this _Will Graham’s_ eyes were. “Yes, I do. That’s so nice, almost wish you _had_ spilled it,” he chuckled.

Will licked his lips, then smiled bigger, showing off his pearly teeth at the handsome, younger version of his long lost Hannibal. “I spose we could at least sit down and drink our coffees together. If you want….”

Fischer would be lying to say he wasn’t deeply intrigued by the young man. Not _that_ much younger than himself he assumed, or maybe they were the same age. Certainly out of place here, and while normally he’d keep to himself, the investigative part of him was curious. “Can I invite you into the cafe then? Join me for some franskbrød with cheese and jam? Have you eaten?” he asked, looking Will up and down subtly.

Conversation over food with a man who very much looked like Hannibal Lecter? This was starting to go Will’s way, not that he thought it wouldn’t. “I think yes is the answer to the first part, and as for the last… I had leftovers this morning, but it’s been a while since then.”

Will stepped closer, looking at Allan with an almost seductive glint in his eyes. He smiled. “You lead the way… _please._ ”

Fischer did so, walking ahead and holding the door to the cafe open for him. It was reasonably quiet for a weekday morning, which was why he liked coming here, especially when he had cases to work on before going to the precinct. “After you. Have you been here before? I don’t think I’ve seen you, and I come here about every day.”

Back inside the cafe they went, and as Will walked in, he had one hand in his pocket, drawing the fabric of his pants tight over the swell of his ass. Turning to look over his shoulder at Allan, a few curls scattering in his eyes, he smiled. “No. I just wanted some coffee. Running into you, literally, was a _fortunate_ case of happenstance.”

Fischer’s eyes went right where Will had intended, and the detective was a bit too green still to hide it. He smirked as he looked, and then turned to walk in right behind him. “I recommend the wheat or rye, those are their specialties,” he said before placing his order at the counter. It was the sort of place where you ordered and then they brought your food out to your table.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you pick for me. Give me a...taste,” Will suggested, arching a brow at Allan as he wrung his hands together. Hannibal would have chosen for him, hell, he made him eat that damned dessert in his kitchen when he’d come over after kissing Alana. Hannibal.

Will felt a pain in his chest, but he kept it hidden, and instead focused on the man before him.

Fischer ordered them each rye bread with cheese and jam, paid for them, and turned around, gesturing towards the windows. “Get a seat there. Good for people watching, if you like that. I do,” he said.

Will sat down, and sipped his coffee. “People can be a distraction. I see too much sometimes, but I’ve learned that can also be useful. Especially in the line of work I used to be in,” he explained, giving Allan the opportunity to inquire. Will was testing the waters; inwardly, he knew this wasn’t his sanest moment but on the other hand, he felt more clear headed than he had in months. “Why do you like to watch them?”

“Line of work? I’m curious what _you_ do. Comes in handy in my occupation as well. You could say I’m in the people business I guess. But if I tell you what I do, you might not like talking to me much anymore, Will Graham,” he smirked, pulling out a pack of smokes and offering him one.

Will hadn’t smoked since he was a detective, but he took one all the same. “You’re a detective, aren’t you?” he asked, borrowing the lighter to light it up. He took an almost seductive pull and exhaled, licking his lips with a grin. “I can tell because I used to be as well, back in New Orleans.”

He wouldn’t mention the FBI for now. “Believe me. What you do for a living, it won’t… dissuade me from talking to you.”

If Allan only knew.

Fischer smirked, pale brows raised in surprise. “Apparently very good at your job. I’m a Detective sergeant, Rejseholdet. Danish Mobile Police. So, an American detective in Copenhagen? Why does it sound like the plot of a movie? Are you here for business or pleasure, Will Graham?” he asked, much more relaxed now that he knew he was talking to a veritable fellow colleague of sorts.

“Pleasure,” Will answered, taking another drag, then a pull of his coffee. “I shot a man there out in the field. I didn’t do too well. I’m retired.”

He gave Allan a smile, noticing the change in posture and the relaxation that was wafting off of him in waves. Good. That was his plan. “If this is a movie, I hope it has a good ending.”

_I am the unreliable narrator of my own story._

Not anymore.

“Very young to be retired, but when you know, I guess you know. So what brought you to Copenhagen? Anything specific?” Fischer took a sip of his coffee and nodded at the waiter who brought two plates to them, beautiful, thick, fresh dark rye bread with several healthy slices of cheese and a large dollop of raspberry jam on top.

“Tak,” he murmured.

“Tak,” Will said to the waiter, then gestured for Allan to go first. “Retired from law enforcement, not from everything else. I fish in my spare time. Lookin’ for work now though. I enjoy building boat engines, among other things.”

Allan wasn’t like Hannibal, not in many ways, but those ways didn’t bother Will. Allan was almost like a… blend - himself and Hannibal. Conjoined.

Allan’s face brightened considerably at the mention of the sport. “Well, if you like fishing, there’s tons of it to be had here. Tuna in the Øresund strait, but there’s also cod, flatfish and sea trout over in Refshaleøen. We’ve got pike just outside Copenhagen in the southern part of Zealand in the Møn and Stege area. Really everywhere you look, but it’s obvious since we’re an island,” he chuckled self consciously, feeling he’d been rambling excitedly too much.

Will’s eyes lit up at that, smiling sincerely. No, not Hannibal, and while he missed him, would _always_ , he was nothing if not...adaptable. “It would be a shame to have all the fish on my own,” he said, putting the bait there, if Allan wanted to take it. Would he name his hook after him? He had already. “Used to go back home, with my dogs.”

Another test.

“If you’d like company, I’d be happy to go with you. It’s been far too long since I’ve been. My boss keeps nagging at me to take a day off.” He tapped at his cigarette and popped out the cherry, stubbing it out to start working on his bread and cheese.

Will put his out as well, letting a lot of it just burn. He took some bread as well, since Allan had, and had a bit. A bit of jelly rested on his lip, so he licked it off, maybe a bit slower than usual. “I’d appreciate the company,” he said, smiling and exhaling through flared nostrils. “It’ll do you well to recharge. Me too.”

Allan was no stranger to flirting, and had both men and women come on to him in his time. Watching Will eat, the lingering looks, the bubblegum pink tongue that flicked out to trace over the stray jam on his lip, it all had its intended effect on him. This American was very good looking, with his sea-blue eyes, dark lashes and well-styled curls. “It would. You have gear with you? If not, I can bring extra.”

“I don’t have as much as I once did. I’ve made a few lures since I’ve been here though,” Will said, rubbing his scruff contemplatively. He looked at those powerful, radiant eyes of Allan’s, eyes that were all too familiar and swallowed. The empath took a bite of his bread, downing some coffee next. “But bring yours, if you don’t mind. When is good for you?”

Allan pulled out his phone. “I will have to talk to the boss, but since she’s been bugging me for ages, she’s likely tell me to knock off early today. How about I get your number and let you know, Will? This evening, I can call you?” he asked expectantly, smoothly, putting on a grin he knew even made Gaby at the station swoon, before she started dating Johnny.

“Sure. Please,” Will answered, and smiled at Allan. He pulled out his phone. “Tell me yours and I’ll text you. Then we’ll both have each other’s. Better that way… reciprocity.”

He finished his bread and coffee, a cocked, coy brow raised at Allan. He was definitely attracted to him. Will was half hard under the table. There was something exciting about that.

That smile - those lines around his mouth, and the way those gorgeous eyes lit up when he did it- had Fischer very interested. God this guy was something; he was curious if he was really attracted, too, all the signals indicated he was. He hoped to find out.

He gave him the number, finishing off his coffee. “I have to go, but I am looking forward to this. What a good break to the morning, meeting you, Will Graham. A fellow man of the law and outdoorsman. It’s serendipity,” he grinned, standing and gathering his trash to throw out.

Will sent Allan a quick text so he’d have his number then stood and pocketed it. He took the trash and walked over with him to the trash, smiling. Extending his hand, he waited for the handsome Danish man to take it. A detective. Will was now hiding in plain sight. Very much like Hannibal had done. He thought to himself once more that the elegant doctor would be pleased.

“Fate and circumstance brought us to this point.”

Fischer tilted his head in curiosity, one side of his smile turning up and revealing a sharp fang. “I guess you could say that, ja,” he chuckled easily. “Well, if all goes as it should, I will let you know this evening when we can plan our excursion. Enjoy the rest of the day until then, hej, hej,” he said, taking and squeezing Will’s hand before turning to go as the empath said goodbye. The smallest hint of a blush stained his cheek as he left, unable to wipe the smile away just yet. Perhaps just a bit of a crush on this unusual American.

It was unusual for Will as well. The whole thing, but he was going with it, and yet calculated. They were and would always be, identically different. Allan had his own charming way though, at least it seemed and felt like it so far. He watched him leave, a smile on his own face before he finally left to head back home.

***

That evening Will found himself checking his phone more than usual. He was admittedly very eager to hear from Allan. He had a simple frozen dinner, showered, and sat in front of the fire, drinking a whiskey.

“Hannibal…” he murmured, and a single tear cascaded down his cheek. Part of him, the former Will Graham was rolling his eyes at what - who - he had become. Mourning the loss of a vicious killer. It was almost hard to believe, but as he’d once said to Hannibal in answer; there was only before and after having met Hannibal, and now after was all that mattered. At least as far as who he was. There would never be another dinner party.

Could Allan fill that void? Likely not, but maybe that was just fine. Maybe this was about something else entirely, or perhaps the detective had a dark streak as well.

***

Ingrid was nothing less than shocked to hear Fischer wanted to take time off. He was asking for a day, but she shook her head.

“You’re saying no?” he sputtered incredulously.

“You’re damn right. You’re to take no less than three days. Allan, you haven’t taken a day off since the divo...since _you know_. Not even a sick day. And you’re going fishing no less, yeah?”

“Is nothing sacred around here, LaCour….” he said, turning around in the trailer, about to scold his best friend.

“Ahh leave him alone. I overheard you. I’m glad. Get outta here. Nothing’s dire and if I need you I know how to find you,” the redhead grinned, and patted him on the back in a sisterly way. “See you next week,” she said.

“Relax! Enjoy yourself,” LaCour added, nodding at Fischer as he grabbed his leather jacket and bag and jogged out.

“Hej, tak,” Allan replied, and he left to get in his car and text Will.

_Three days off. Want to meet at four am tomorrow? I can pick you up._

Will was just about to go to bed when he heard his phone. Picking it up, he smiled, and typed out a reply.

_That sounds good. I’m going to bed now. I’ll see you at four._

Will added his address in the email after that, then pulled his shirt off, getting into bed in just his boxer shorts.

 _Goodnight, Detective._ Will added with a smirk to himself.

Allan undressed as well, down to white briefs, and climbed into bed, setting his alarm and turning out the light, unaware he was still blushing.

***

Fischer was up too early, equipment packed, including beers, waders, everything they might need. He wore a tee shirt under a sweatshirt and jeans, boots, and once the car was loaded, he made his way to Will’s.

Will was just as ready. His humble cabin in the woods wasn’t hard to find and truthfully, with the money that Hannibal had left Will - he always thought of everything - in a secret fund, the empath could easily buy something nicer. Instead, Will kept to what he knew.

Once he was done, he set his stuff on the porch, where he sat in a rocking chair, sipping coffee.

Fischer was surprised Will lived so far out in the woods. As he wound his way up the isolated, rocky road, his face broke into a grin when he spotted a cabin and a handsome figure seating in a chair there. He pulled up and stepped out, sauntering up to Will as he looked around, gaze finally resting on the brunet as he sat, legs spread wide in a rocking chair. Fischer held up a steaming thermos and nodded. “God morgen,” he greeted in Danish.

In the early morning haze, seeing the figure walking towards him, Will temporarily thought it was Hannibal - il Mostro - come back from the dead. It went back and forth and his lips parted before he realized it was all in his head. With a smile, he tipped his thermos towards the detective as well.

“God morgen, Allan. Glad you made it.”

_Very glad._

Will, dressed in a flannel, green pants, a tan vest and usual fishing hat stood up, walking closer.

“Ready or did you need to drink more of your… kaffe?”

Fischer blushed, charmed by the tousled curls and carefully styled, short beard. Will was well polished and put together, his language lacking the sloppiness of most from his country, well poised and confident. The combination of the softness in his lovely eyes and the sharpness of his jawline, aspects of his tongue, the sharp wit and cunning that appeared to hide behind that pretty face was so alluring. “I’m good. Made extra should you want some. I’m impressed at how much Danish you seem to know already, Will. I’d love to teach you more.”

Will smiled up close at Allan, admiring the dark long tresses, as well as those all too familiar eyes, cheekbones, and lips. He felt his cock stir, admittedly. It had been a long, long time. Never with a man. Hannibal would’ve been his first; all they had shared was a kiss.

“Thanks. I pick up things quickly I spose,” Will answered, sucking his lower lip between his teeth, which he scraped over it and let go with a quiet pop. “It would be nice to not be the teacher for once. Shoe on the other foot and all. I’d… I’d like that.”

Fischer felt sucked in and intoxicated by Will; his eyes, his voice, the way he looked at him, it was like he was being drugged and he couldn’t resist him. Each second spent in his orbit pulled him ever closer to his center. “Equal footing. Just relax and do something you mutually enjoy, maybe let me show you a few tricks I know. I get that.” Fischer leaned closer for a second, and then pulled back to walk towards the car and get the door for him, jogging over to the drivers side. Fuck, he was nervous as a boy on a first date, and why was that? “Let’s go!”

Will chuckled roughly then walked over to the car. He opened the passenger door, then cut his piercing blue eyes up at Allan. “Equal footing,” he smiled, then let his penetrative gaze linger for a second, swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he got inside and buckled up. His heart was racing, renewed adrenaline and euphoria surging through his veins. He’d not felt this since…. Well, that didn’t matter now. Did it? Everything was beginning to blur.

The Dane felt the energy from Will mixed with something else, something strange. He’d noticed it from the get-go, but not said anything.

He started driving, remaining quiet at first, but as they got further into the country and began seeing water and coast line, Fischer turned to look at Will again. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Maybe he should wait. Maybe not. “If I might ask...you keep looking at me like you know me. Is it just me? Am I imagining it?” he asked simply, grinning easily and hoping he wasn’t overstepping.

Was it that obvious? Will wondered to himself. Was Allan an empath? No. Likely not, or at least not to the degree he was, but he was a detective and that’s what they did. “You remind me of someone who passed away,” he said, inhaling sharply through his nostrils. “I admit, it was the initial… _attraction._ It… drew me to you after running into you, but after getting to know you, there’s more than that there.”

Not the best explanation but he’d not expected the question. Will wrung his hands together on his lap.

“Hey,” Fischer said quickly in a deep, soothing voice. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t mind, as long as it’s not something bad for you or anything. We don’t have to talk about it. It’s ok,” he said warmly. He had the urge to reach over and touch his hand, but he held back; it was a bit soon for that. Instead he flipped on the radio, scanning through the stations for something until he found a seventies classic rock station playing _Born on the Bayou_ by happenstance.

Will smiled at Allan. “N-No. I’m alright,” he said and then sat there enjoying the irony of the song as Allan drove. Will also had the urge to reach out to Allan. It was quite strange, that kindness, the lack of prodding; Hannibal would have done exactly the opposite. “Thank you, Allan.”

Fischer grinned crookedly, his fangs flashing as he looked over at Will and nodded. “Think nothing of it, my friend.” He continued driving, singing quietly off-key in his heavily accented lisp, lightly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

Soon they reached an area with a car park. No one was there yet at such an early hour, which was good; they had their pick of places to set up. Allan parked and opened the back, and began unloading gear for them to carry. It was still and quiet but for the sounds of ducks and geese, birds all waking and beginning their morning routines. Handing a tackle box and poles to Will, he took a backpack himself and another bag and closed the trunk. “I think we’re set, follow me,” he said.

Will nodded, and carried the box and the poles as they walked. It was beautiful, peaceful, and in a way, it reminded him of Wolftrap. He thought about Winston and Buster, as well as the rest of his pack. He knew Molly was taking good care of them though. “It’s beautiful,” he said, then had a flash of a memory of Hannibal and himself on the cliff. It was all his fault.

“Do you like dogs?” Will suddenly asked, turning and raising both brows at Allan curiously. He chuckled. “This place just reminds me of home a little. What _was_ home, anyway, and my dogs there.

Fischer chuckled and nodded. “I used to have a dog when I was a small boy. I love animals. I haven’t had time since then to dedicate to one. My uh, well, my ex wife was going to get one for my son. I’m not sure if she still is. I guess that’s an awkward way to say I’m divorced and have a son,” he laughed as they walked, blushing a bit and looking over at Will to gauge his reaction.

Will wasn’t overly surprised. He sort of felt that from him and yet it was shocking all at the same time since he still saw a younger Hannibal.

“No it’s alright. Actually, I’m divorced too. No biological children. Only a step son.”

_I gave you a child once._

Will felt emotion swell up in his breast at that. Hannibal. Abigail. A place had been made.

“How long were you married?” Will asked with a smile as they neared their destination. It was lovely out truly and being there with Allan was very nice. A bonus that he liked animals too.

Allan looked around and satisfied with a spot in the riverbank, set down their equipment and supplies. “About four years. I’m okay though. She’s with someone else, I get visitation with my boy every other weekend.” He sat down on a fallen log and opened the tackle box to start setting up lures. He smiled up at Will. “No live bait, but these will do for now. I made some.”

Will nodded, bending over to eye the lures. “These are good,” he said, sitting down to aid in doing the same. He pulled out a few that he’d made, smiling over at Allan very much the way he had Hannibal in Italy after finally finding him. His heart was full. Full of old love, new beginnings and that ever blooming darkness there.

“Thanks,” he answered. Fischer’s heart caught in his throat at the beautiful smile from Will, and he felt his fingertips tingle simply from the light in the other man’s blue eyes, the creases in his skin around his mouth, sharp points visible from teeth under ruby lips. The sun was coming up, and he sat and watched Will’s fingers move effortlessly. When he was done, Fischer picked up his thermos and drank some more coffee. It felt good just being here with the other man, doing something this simple with his new friend.

Will looked back at Fischer and he just allowed himself to feel. He took a breath, taking him in, then smiled once more. He’d not smiled so much in…. Maybe forever? Even with Hannibal. It was different then. With a lick of his lips, he set the lures to the side, once everything was ready. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, his tone deeper, a bit rough, which he’d not intended on since it betrayed the fact that he was feeling the same exact thing. To try to cover it, he swallowed some coffee. “Or is there anythin’ else you needed to do?”

“No - I’m ready as I’ll ever be. Come on, follow me,” Fischer said, rising and walking towards the riverbed. He stepped out a bit and let his fingers slide up the line, casting it and watching with a keen eye. “It so peaceful out here so early. I really love it. Gives you time with your thoughts. Particularly in our line of work, personally at least for myself, I find it helpful.”

Will, who was standing right beside Allan, doing the same with his line and rather expertly in his waders, cut his eyes to the detective. He’d honestly never met anyone who shared his views there. Sure, a lot of people loved to fish and think, but there weren’t many in his - what was his - line of work that understood. He smiled, the rising sun casting a golden light that brought out all of the colors in Will’s hues. “That about sums it up, yes. I’ve… never known anyone else to say that, other than myself.”

_I’ve never known myself, as well as I know myself when I’m with him._

The water, the company, the memories. Hannibal hadn’t been to Will’s stream, but he knew of it. Now here he was, with someone…. Different, yet the same.

_“Do you think you can change him, the way I changed you?”_

Hannibal’s voice lived on in Will’s mind. He heard it there, resounding in the halls of his own memory palace - theirs - at least in some rooms. For an instant, he saw the Wendigo coming out of that water, but it dissipated, and there on the banks, on the other side, he saw Hannibal. Not… really, but it was enough to make him nearly drop his line, all in a matter of seconds.

“I find your openness to be so refreshing. So many these days, well especially Americans, tend to have walls up and be so closed to these kind of experiences. You’re very unique Will,” Fischer smiled. Will’s eyes were like open wells, and there was certainly pain and grief there, but he was showing more and more of himself with every passing moment they spent together. “I get the feeling you don’t open up to many though, so I count myself very privileged.”

“I’ve been told I’m usually alone because I’m unique,” Will chuckled, glad that Allan didn’t notice him almost drop his line. He considered himself a good fisherman, and that wouldn’t do. Just as he was thinking that, his line dipped. His face changed to an expression of happy concentration as he pulled the fish from the water. Will held it up. “I don’t. I build forts, keep people out. You’re… an exception.”

Yes it was a clear flirtation, even if that wasn’t something he really did often. He’d learned some in his dealings with Hannibal. Starting back to the bank to put the fish in the cooler, he turned to look over his shoulder at Allan and gave him somewhat of a coy look, again not entirely intentional, then just as quickly, he was facing away again.

Just as he cast his line, caught his fish, reeled it in, so smooth and skilled, Allan found himself unable to completely focus on the task at hand. Amber eyes traced long, slender fingers riddled with callouses and cuts, bits of dirt under his nails, the hands of a man who worked with them, who wasn’t afraid to get them deep in the mire and viscera. Further still traveling up well muscled forearms and broad shoulders to the fine, blue veins that stood out against the pallor of his neck, delicate skin dotted in beauty marks and freckles. Every time Will swallowed, his thick Adam’s apple journeyed up and down in such an obscene manner, it made Fischer blush. And inevitably, swallowing came with a lip lick. Will was fishing for more than seafood, though Allan wasn’t sure if he was being deliberate or if it had simply been so long for him and he was just becoming smitten. In any event, the flirting landed him solidly. “Well, I’m happy to be the exception then. Fortunate,” he chuckled lightly. “Even our fish are captivated, hmm?”

Will looked up as he walked back over to Allan to recast, the fish now in the bucket. He raised one brow as his lips quirked at the corners. “I think we’re both fortunate,” he said in response, his tone deep. He waded out into the water, admiring the contrast of bronzed skin and dark hair. The sharp, alpine cheekbones that stood out as he neared the detective. The lips of course caught his eye, then up to fierce amber. There was a warmth there though, one that Hannibal didn’t have per say, not like Allan’s. It was… appealing. All in all, Will was still learning his new proclivity, or perhaps it didn’t need a label. It was just Hannibal, and now Allan. Whatever it was, he stood a little closer to him, and recast. “Even insinuates that more than the fish are. Are you, Allan? I am.”

Fischer’s sharp cheekbones heated as he stood rod in hand, and felt a nibble on his line. He looked up and met the other man’s eyes. “I think you already know the answer is yes,” he said, lips curled up, and he began reeling in his line, forearms flexing as the sun rose in full glow over the clear blue water. The fish thrashed across the surface, breaking the stillness and quiet, and he swiftly brought it in and carried it back to the bucket.

Will was impressed with Allan’s skills, in more than one way. He wondered if he’d be good at other things. Dark things, sexual things. For once Will was thinking on multiple trains at once. He noticed that lip curl. A vision popped into his mind, walking to that bank, grabbing Allan by the vest and demanding he give him proof, but no, a steadfast calm. A patience. That is what he needed to have. True, having lost the time with Hannibal made him not want to wait too long, but he needed to be sure before… well, before anything else happened between them.

So Will stayed in the stream, waiting for his next bite. He smiled. “I think I do.”


	2. Chapter 2

The gear was packed up in Allan’s car along with a bucket full of fish the two men had caught. It was already close to noon, both men feeling hungry, and the Dane invited Will to his house to grill their catch and have a few beers. Fischer was more than pleased when Will had accepted, especially given their flirtations over the course of the morning. 

Will was having a good time. No, a great time. He was happy for the first time in… well, as long as he could remember. It was different with Hannibal. There was always a back and forth repartee, which was very good but this was unique. Allan and himself shared a lot in common so far. He was hungry though, and honestly, for more than just food, but he wanted to wade in slowly, test the waters, see what might be lurking beneath the surface there.

Fischer pulled up to his humble home, a small place in the countryside just outside the city. Quiet, peaceful, no neighbors nearby. He unloaded the car, nodding his head for Will to carry a few things to and beckoning him to follow him to the back yard. “This way,” he gestured, leading him around the side of the small house to a nice fenced in yard where trees and shrubs surrounded the perimeter and hid an area with two wooden adirondack chairs and a table, as well as a grill and some flowers. There were some steps that led to a back door which entered to the kitchen, and he set down the fish and tackle box and walked up the steps, opening the screen and then the kitchen door to prop open with a rock.

“Please come in and I’ll give you the tour. It’s not big. You can leave those here,” he instructed, gesturing to the stone patio where he’d deposited the rest of their gear.

Will nodded, going just that, looking at Allan’s ass when he thought that the detective wasn’t aware. He smiled to himself. It wasn’t something that he’d really ever done before. Not even with Hannibal, but things were shifting. “I’ve never been partial to large places. Too many places for…things to collect, or hide,” he explained, his hands free. He followed Allan inside, his hands in his pockets, waders left.

Fischer had removed his waders as well, leaving him in his boots and jeans as he walked in. It was certainly a bachelor’s house, though tidy but sparse. The back door opened into the kitchen, a wooden island in the center, a wrap around counter with barstools on one side. Behind that, a desk with a laptop computer and a small file cabinet. “This is just the kitchen and what would be the dining room, which I use as a makeshift home office sometimes.” He grinned and moved through the small space to the front and what was the living room; a sky blue couch and easy chair with a television and bookcases strewn with pictures of a small boy with strawberry blond hair. “My son,” he explained. There were books on the FBI, true crime, psychology, criminal profiling, undercover work, as well as a section of science fiction.

Will looked at the picture, thinking about the son he had, ready made, as Hannibal had put it, and swallowed. He smiled at Allan. “Do you see him often?” he asked. He wasn’t sure if he was really even made to be a father, not a real father. Not after what had happened to the one child he’d made with Margot. Will took in the area, thinking how different it was to Hannibal’s home, but he also felt more at ease there. A lot of it was decor he’d select himself. “I don’t have any children myself.”

Allan picked up one of the frames and looked at it, smiling proudly. The sweet boy was a source of true joy for him, though he’d had a hard time accepting the separation at first. Fischer was stubborn, he’d made his choices, so had Mitte. At least now things were civil, even with her new husband. “Every other weekend, I have him. It’s good. My job made it hard to spend time with him, I almost do it more now than I used to. He’s a good, smart boy.” Fischer turned to Will then. “Did you ever want a child of your own?”

“In a manner of speaking, but I wasn’t sure if… if given my line of work,  that it would be feasible,” Will said, looking from the photo to Allan.

_ You know better than to breed. _

Hannibal’s voice echoing inside his mind once more. Will gave Allan a smile and waited for the tour to continue. It complicated things a bit, knowing he had a son. Will didn’t want to… come between them.

Fischer nodded in understanding, sensing there was quite a bit more to Will’s story; he thought maybe in time he’d share more. They both would. He felt comfortable with Will already. “That’s a realistic concern. My career was a problem with my marriage, always too busy and going from place to place. At any rate, this is the bathroom and this little spare bedroom is where my son stays when he visits, and a little room that I think was meant to be an office, which I use for my weight benches, a gym, then here is my bedroom,” he said, showing Will each as he described them.

“It’s always hard for loved ones, knowing what we - what you - do. I was married once, as I mentioned before.” Will realized then that Allan had also mentioned his son before too, and the visitation, but it was as though his mind had blocked it out, not wanting to think about it.

When they stopped in Allan’s bedroom, Will looked at the bed, then back to Allan. His face grew hot. He thought about all of things that had gone on there, and that  _ could _ . It wasn’t often that he concentrated on that, but he’d denied himself for far too long. Licking his lips, he cleared his throat, scratching his belly. The same area where he’d been gutted; it was likely subconscious he finally realized.

“This is a nice place. Thank you for the tour, Allan.”

Fischer grinned. “Of course. I’m going to start the grill if you want to wash up in the bathroom? I’ll be right behind you. I can gut the fish unless you’d like to do the honors?” he asked.

“I can gut the fish, since you’re cookin’,” Will offered with a smile. He reached out and touched Allan’s shoulder, giving a squeeze as he’d had done to him in the past. His eyes practically glowed as he leaned in a little closer, his tone a near whisper. “I’ll be right back.”

The Dane nodded and headed outside to the grill to get it started. Many of his friends used gas grills but he was a bit old fashioned and loved the way briquettes gave a smokey flavor to meats. He lit them and stoked them a bit, cracking open a beer and lighting a cigarette before wandering back inside to lay some newspapers on the counter and get out he knives for Will. He put on a bit of background music, just classic rock, nothing too heavy.

Will stared at himself in the mirror, half expecting to see it crack like it had once before. He was thinking deeply, almost lost in thought, when he heard the music and smelled the smoke. It made him smile, then chuckle. What was happening? Allan was awakening something in him, just as Hannibal had, only this was...different. Was it good?

He came out of the bathroom, and walked over to the counter where the newspaper and knives were and rolled up his sleeves. He smiled at Allan, yet again, and then started expertly gutting the fish. “I haven’t listened to classic rock in… well, a very long time.”

Fischer grinned at him, chopping up some vegetables to grill with the fish. “You like it, ja? I can change it if you don’t. I just like a little something in the background when I’m working or cooking.” He found he couldn’t take his eyes off the long, skilled fingers that expertly worked over the fish; it was very evident he’d done this many, many times before.

"No, no, I like it... all of it. Of  _ this _ ," Will gestured with the knife, careful with how he handled it though. He thought it was ironic. They were in the kitchen, he was aiding as Allan chopped. Sous-chef, so to speak, and yet it was a different feeling altogether. Will couldn't help but watch Allan as well, when he was taking pauses on the fish. He was looking at every part of him, as discreetly as he could.

“You really know your way around that fish. But of course you would, being a fisherman. Your whole life, right? I did too. Father taught me really young. I always loved it,” Allan reminisced. “We’d go early in the morning and by the time we came home, Mor would have fresh bread made and usually some fruit jam, some fresh cheese from the farmers market ready for lunch.”

"What I remember the fondest about my childhood was fishin' on the Bayou with my dad. He taught me young too. We went out, caught our dinner, then sold the rest. It made a decent living I spose but we traveled a lot. I was always the new kid in school," Will explained, putting the filets to the side for Allan. "I didn't know my mom really. Sounds like you have good parents. If they're still around?"

Fischer loved hearing about Will’s life, liked the way his lovely eyes looked off in the distance as though he was seeing images and memories from his past playing in his mind's eye. Large, veiny dark olive hands ran down the sides of a potato, cutting lengthwise. “They’ve passed on. I had good folks though, honest hard working. We never left Denmark, which is why I always had a thirst for travel. Curious about the world outside our bubble here. I’ve never been to Louisiana, though I did go to Virginia once.”

Will watched, licking his lips as Allan worked, then went about gutting the last fish, tossing the unwanted parts in the trash to be taken out. “Sorry to hear,” he said, but then raised his brow at the notion of traveling. “I’ve been doing a bit of that I spose you could say. It lead me here...to you.”

He laughed at himself, then added, “Like I said, fate and circumstance. Maybe one day I’ll show you New Orleans.”

“I’d like that a lot. It’s funny Will, I haven’t known you long yet you feel like someone I’ve known my whole life. I hope you plan to stay in Denmark awhile.” Fischer grinned at him warmly and began making a rub for the fish with various seasonings in a bowl. He stepped behind Will for a moment to reach for a spoon in a drawer near his waist, brushing against him as he did. “Unskyld, ah sorry…”

Will pressed back against Allan, just for a second, closing his eyes to….feel. He drew a breath, then opened his eyes again, turning to look at Allan. “It’s alright, I didn’t… I don’t mind,” he said, smiling at him. “And yes, I feel the same resonance. I have no plans on leaving.”

He didn’t want to, not now. Not since having met Allan. Actually, he wanted to feel that contact again. That spark, if such a thing existed, Will felt it with him.

The momentary contact made Fischer nearly swoon, lightheaded. He caught Will’s scent, woodsy, musky, clean with a hint of the tang of sweat from their morning of work outside, a bit of coffee there as well, that dark, sharp, acrid bitter scent that awakens the senses with its blunt, comforting warmth. The spark was without any doubt there on his side as well. He paused to look at the brunet, eyes focused on a well-formed curl that traced a perfect Golden Spiral right beside his ear. “Good. I think we might become very close if you’d like that,” Fischer said warmly.

“I would, yes,” Will answered, inhaling a slow breath. He moved out of the way, enjoying the dance they were having, and continued working. The smile, though faint, didn’t leave his lips for about a minute. 

He set a small dish with the seasoning off the side and finished preparing the potatoes and onions for the grill as he watched Will finish cleaning the fish, and he helped him clean up the guts and carry everything outside to cook. Will drank a few swigs of a beer, the sun beaming down on both men, causing a fine sheen of sweat to glisten.

“How long have you lived here? Do you find it lonely?”

Fischer cracked open a beer of his own and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt as it warmed up. “In this house? Not too long. Only about a year. When Mitte and I divorced, I didn’t want the ghosts of the past in my life anymore. I wanted a clean start. A different place too, neutral territory for my boy to visit. I don’t like carrying the past with me. What’s done is done, you know?” he said with a serious look. He placed the potatoes and onions wrapped in foil on the back of the grill and then brushed two fish fillets with the spices and closed the lid.

Will eyed Allan’s chest, and when he was turned around, he did the same. His smooth, muscular chest heaved under the soft fabric of the flannel. He took another swig of beer. “Sometimes the ghosts of the past won’t stop whispering,” he said, thinking of Hannibal in that moment. “They speak in a cadence that makes it almost impossible to drown out, but…” Will chuckled. “But I know what you mean. You may say the past is what brought me here and is what’s keeping me from wanting to go back to States. At least for now.”

Fischer’s eyes wandered down Will’s long, elegant neck to the top of chest, a delicately pronounced collarbone balanced handsomely with the broad muscular chest like a young god from mythology. He nodded and took another swig of beer. “A lover? Regrets? I...uh...I shouldn’t pry. I’m blunt. Can’t help it, occupational habits,” he chuckled.

Will shook his head, showing it was okay. “It’s alright. I’m used to people being blunt. I can be too,” he explained, then took another pull from his bottle, furrowing his brow. “Regrets. I’m riddled with them. Not a lover. Would have been. Maybe. He uh, he died.”

He cast a looked to Fischer, wanting to see and feel his reaction to… all of it. “I wasn’t aware of certain proclivities I posses, not until recently, and not until… him. But as you said, what’s done is done. It’s - he’s - in the past, and I’m ready to move forward.”

There was pain there, in the blue eyes that looked back at him. Fischer didn’t exactly have the same pinpoint empathy that LaCour did, but he could still feel it, sense it, the grief behind a wall that he sensed was being slowly dismantled, maybe just a bit at a time. It was good enough, it was generous. God knows he had his own demons, and men of the law weren’t exactly the touchy feely sharing sort. “Yeah. Yeah, exactly. Good attitude to have. Makes us stronger, all these things. Life is too short to dwell on what went wrong in the past. Learn from it and get up.” Fischer opened the grill and turned the fish. “By proclivities, you mean...what kind of proclivities? Sexual?” he asked with a curve of his lips.

“Yes,” Will answered, very precisely, clearly enunciated. He set his bottle down, after emptying it with a few more drinks, then put his hands in his pockets. Opening up wasn’t easy for him. Hannibal had to pull it out, or rip it out. Literally, by way of a linoleum knife.  Will wasn’t a romantic, he wasn’t touchy feely either, but he could feel love, pain, and want. He needed someone to warm his side at night, even if he liked to pretend he didn’t. “A feeling known but not acted upon. Sometimes it takes just one person to...awaken what’s been hiding inside.”

The Dane licked his lips and felt his cheeks darken at Will’s words, the lowered timber and his accent causing his belly to heat as his imagination ran wild. “Hmmm. You uhhh, never knew you had thoughts about men until this person came into your life...but, now that you’ve been with him, you do.”

“Yes. I wasn’t... _ with _ him. Not in that way. We shared a mutual love, a mutual disdain as well at times,” Will chuckled, rubbing his jaw as he stepped closer to Allan. He took him in, observed the reaction, and licked his lips. “But Pandora’s box was opened, so to speak, and it won’t close again.” 

“Was this mutual love or disdain a  _ person _ ?” Allan asked curiously.

“Some would argue that,” Will answered, then cleared his throat. “Yes. He was a person.”

Will was opening up. He was used to being pressed. It was both refreshing and… not, at the same time when Allan didn’t. Will helped him plate the fish when they were done, and when the sides were made, they went inside, sitting down at the table to eat. He set his fork down before taking the first bite. “And what is it that you’re looking for, if anything?” he asked, then finally took a bite, making a pleased humming sound.

Fischer watched Will before taking a bite himself. A perfectly shaped Cupid’s bow, lips so red, they almost looked like they were bitten, the way his sharp jaw shifted as he chewed, and those deep, intense blue eyes that stared back. “In life? A person? My job? The future? I’m not sure sometimes. I think I know what I want when I see it, and that’s how I’ve always been.”

Will nodded. “This fish is delicious by the way,” he said, licking his lips. “All of the above I guess?”  

Will wasn’t sure, or maybe he was but it was more than he knew that he didn’t know the complete answers to that question for himself either. All he did know was that he very much wanted to know everything about Allan.

Fischer hummed and nodded. “I wanted to be in the FBI since I was a small boy, my whole life. But I’ve made some bad decisions and now I don’t know if that would even be possible anymore, you know? I’m certain it’s not, certainly not without an endorsement from some higher ups at work that definitely don’t like me. I’m a black sheep, wild card there. I’ve always been too impulsive and hot headed,” he confessed, continuing to eat.

“I was… a special agent for the bureau,” Will finally confessed in return. Reciprocity. Giving trust with the hope of receiving it.  He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully, then swallowed, washing the food down with more beer. He canted his head to the side and gave Allan an understanding, empathetic smile. “I see too much, as I’ve hinted. Pure empathy. I never made it past the tests to become a  _ real _ agent.”

A pause; Will looked down at the food. “I understand being seen as the wild card. Very much.”

Suddenly it became much clearer to the Dane, what he saw in him, what seemed familiar. “Pure empathy. So you can feel or sense from people their perspective, what they are experiencing, determine their motives through more than mere investigation. That’s an incredible talent and asset to have. My partner LaCour does that... _ has _ that particular gift. Fuck, it’s pretty incredible to witness. I can do it a bit, nothing like him though.” Fischer took another bite of his food as his eyes traced over Will’s features as though he were memorizing them. God. The more he looked at him, the more smitten he grew. “How did your boss ever let you go with a skill like that?”

“I just find evidence that’s already there,” Will said, modestly, much like he’d said to Jack. He was opening up to Allan though, bit by bit, brick by brick, his wall was starting to come down. It was needed though, give and take; besides, he really liked Allan. “I left. He wouldn’t have let me go. I… I didn’t give him a choice.”

Fischer nodded. “That’s pretty gutsy. Bold. But you have to do that when you know what you have to do.”

Will was smitten too, and as he finished his food, he leaned back, eyeing Allan in equal measure. “It’s a gift, and a curse I ‘spose.”

Allan finished his beer, head titled all the way back, watching every expressive twitch of Will’s brows, quirk of his lips, flare of his nostrils, all his features an asymmetrical symphony that played so expressively to convey so much, simple though his words might be, they told the rest of the story, they filled in the cracks and crevices. He wanted to dive in blindly, swim the deep waters of this beautiful, mysterious man’s sea blue eyes and drown in the complicated soul that lay beneath, and something was warning him in the back of his mind, something telling him there was a quiet danger to Will, more than what he could sense or see. But he wanted to ignore that voice, as he always did, reckless, impulsive Fischer, jumping into danger and following what he  _ wanted. _ “I suppose it would be, especially as a cop.”

Will nodded, his eyes taking on a what others might consider to be a puppy dog sort of expression as he did so. He didn’t keep it long before wrung his hands together, seemingly vulnerable and hell, maybe there was something to that, afterall a broken heart garnered such things. “In more ways than one, in and out of the field,” he said, standing up to pace since they were both finished eating. “Thanks for the meal. And for today. It’s nice to have the company of someone like minded.”

The Dane rose and picked up their plates, carrying them to the sink. “Feel like going for a walk? I agree, it is nice to find someone so alike yet from such a unique world. I would love to hear more about some of your cases or more about, uh, you,” Fischer said, a shy blush pinking up his cheeks as he dried his hands on a kitchen towel and smiled at Will. 

“I think yes is the answer the that,” Will said, smiling, noticing the blush there. It elicited one of his own, and the rosy color spread all the way to the tips of his ears which were peeking out through the mess of curls. He leaned against the counter as he waited for Allan. “I’d...I’d ah, like to know more about you too.”

Fischer grabbed his keys and grinned, the highlights in Will’s curls catching his eye. His hair looked so silky soft, and he’d never thought that about a man’s hair before. Truthfully, he’d never been attracted to men before. He wasn’t against it, but this was quite a new feeling for him, one which he was curious about. “Perfect, then. Let’s go,” he said enthusiastically.

He led Will down the steps and driveway, through the backyard to a little path that wound its way into what could be called a bit of an overgrown forest. There was just enough of a path cleared to make it manageable to navigate, and being now late afternoon, and summer, the sun would still be up for at least several more hours. “I have to be honest, I haven't enjoyed a day off like this is a long time, Will,” he remarked as they walked, the path quiet but for the birds and wildlife mingling with the wind dancing through the trees.

“I haven’t enjoyed this with anyone else in a long time either,” Will agreed, looking  around, but keeping Allan in his periphery. He was really content, and yet that darkness still lingered, that yearning. After a few minutes of silence, Will stopped, turning to face the detective. “Have you ever killed anyone in the line of duty? How did you feel when you did?”

It was maybe out of the blue, but in the peace of the woods, Will felt it would garner and openness. “Figure there’s no better time to ask than on a walk alone together.”

Will chuckled.

Fischer was a little caught off guard by the question. “No one innocent. The first time, it was terrifying. But the next time, weighing that this person was taking the lives of innocents, putting people in danger...the feeling of putting a bullet through his skull was... _ pure _ . Satisfying. I’d saved countless lives by taking one. It was good,” he answered, squinting up at the trees and then meeting Will’s gaze.

“Killing someone so bad can feel...so good, yes,” Will agreed, licking his lips.

_ Killing must feel good to God too. He does it all the time, and are we not made in his image? _

Will held Allan’s gaze, thinking of him bloodied. Righteous killing. Perhaps other, though Will couldn’t ever bring himself to kill the innocent, even if he… wanted to, on occasion.

“You’re familiar with it, you know how it is. You must. It’s one of the reasons I got into law enforcement. It’s that power, that thrill of being able to bring some kind of balance to the world. You see some kid getting bullied on the playground. As you get older, far worse shit. The woman that gets beat up by her asshole husband. The alcoholic parent that abuses their kid. Rapists. Cruelty, injustice, and many wrongs are never righted.” Fischer looked over at Will. “I’ve gotten in trouble before at my job for taking it too far. Sometimes it’s not enough. Prison is too merciful. Part of me wants to…” he trailed off, not finishing. He sighed. What would Will think if he said it?

Will stepped closer to Allan at that, his eyes almost hooded. “Wants to… wants to what?” he asked, swallowing thickly, seeing the Wendigo creeping up behind Allan, long taloned fingers curling around his shoulders. An embrace. A thick cloud of swirling darkness, unseen but felt, taken in but not… consummated. Not yet. “You are free to express yourself, Allan. This is a judgment free walk in the park.”

Fischer’s heart quickened in his chest, like a trapped bird of prey desperately beating its wings, knowing it didn’t belong in a cage, shouldn’t be held back, but doing so anyway. He licked his lips slowly and looked deeper into Will’s eyes. Something there beckoned him, something tempting and alluring, and he felt like he was being seduced, pulled into his orbit by a gravitational weight from the center of his body. “Wants to see...a more  _ just _ form of justice I suppose. Bring life into balance. Even the odds...a bit more in the favor of right…” Fischer gasped suddenly, shaking his head, and broke Will’s penetrative stare. Wiping a hand over his face, he sighed. “I sound insane.”

Will knew what Allan meant, even if it was coated with his proper words. When he looked away, the empath closed the distance and walked placed his hand over the detective’s heart - a message of his own just by doing that - and neared his face to the Dane’s. “You’re not insane. I’ve seen insanity. Nearly tasted it. Right now, I just want to taste  _ you _ .”

Ghosting his lips, he looked into amber hues, waiting to see if Allan wanted the same thing too.

Fischer inhaled sharply; Will’s face was so close they were breathing the same air, and he could see the gold speckles of light in his blue eyes. Before meeting Will Graham, he couldn’t really have said he’d felt this tension in his gut before, this pull, this arousal. Of its own accord, he moved one hand to the side of his face and rubbed his thumb over his cheek before quickly leaning in and pressing their lips together. He remained like that for a beat, then opening his mouth and inviting Will to do exactly as he wanted and taste with a low hum.

That was all it took; Will clutched at Allan’s biceps. Much like he’d done to Hannibal on that cliff. Only it wasn’t Hannibal. He wasn’t in Will’s mind as he slipped his tongue inside his mouth, a low groan reverberating from his chest, right into the kiss. Before he knew it, he backed him against the nearby tree, lips, and teeth, slick muscle all seeking. He pressed his body hard against the detective’s, canting his head to the side as he fed from him like a starving man. Clearly, there was a deep unsated hunger that was finally getting what it needed. What the beast inside needed, and oh did it howl.

It was so new, so different; Fischer had never been taken and pressed up against anything by anyone before like this. He surely had a couple inches on the man, but it was the sheer power and attitude of the American that took his breath away. Those powerful hands gripping his arms and holding him fast, and just like that he felt his cock thicken in his breeches like never before with a man. Lightheaded, he met the hunger with his own, the firm slick muscle of his tongue massaging Will’s as he sucked and licked into his mouth passionately. “Mmmmm….”

It was new to Will too, but the fire that burned and churned in his belly and his loins, fueled him. He felt a blaze with passion for Allan, and rutted against him very much like a horny teenager. Granted, he knew what he was doing, at least in this area. Future intimacies would prove different, but the empath was very much up for the challenge. “Fuck,” he whispered, catching his breath but not moving away, his heart thudding hard and fast. “You taste...good. Very good.”

“So do you,” Fischer exhaled harshly, his hands sliding down to Will’s waist lustfully. He was so unused to feeling the harder edges of a man’s body, and yet parts of Will were so soft and pliable. As he explored his ass and squeezed the plush curves, he felt so good. Rolling his hips against Will’s, he kissed him hard and insistently, becoming breathless. “This feels...ahh. Good. I’ve.. not done that before with a...with a man. Kissed before,” he confessed shyly.

Will backed away long enough to answer, his cock hard as steel in his pants. He nodded slowly, his eyes soft and dark all at once. “I’ve only had one kiss with a man, and it wasn’t like this,” he confessed back, holding Allan’s face, thumbing over his cheekbones as he looked into his eyes. He could feel everything; it was a lot, and very intense, but he liked it. “I… we can stop. If you want and i’ll promise not to kiss you again. At least not until you’re ready.”

Fischer felt it all too, in a rush, and he slid his hand up to meet Will’s rubbing his thumb over his pulse and turning to kiss the inside of his wrist. “I don’t necessarily want to stop, though perhaps we can explore further uhh...indoors.” He smirked at the shorter man. “Only if  _ you _ want of course, hmmm?”

“I haven’t wanted anything… to this degree… in a long time,” Will admitted, closing his eyes briefly when he felt those lips on his skin again. He grinned when he opened them back up, and leaned in to kiss him once more, softer and with purpose. “I am not interested in having a passerby witness something like that, so yes, I think we’ll want to become more familiar with one another indoors.”

Fischer kissed him back once more and released his hand. “It would be dirty to do something like that out here,” he teased playfully, always one to push things a bit farther.

“I don’t mind getting dirty,” Will flirted, not afraid of that, and it told him something about Allan too. “I’m just not wanting to show you off, not in that way.”

Will was growing attached, and he was also jealous natured, even if it didn’t always show. Still, he knew Allan wasn’t suggesting they do it now, outside, so he smiled, looking at him through wispy lashes.

Allan brushed his hand over Will’s cheek and leaned in to press another kiss to his mouth deeply. “Would you like to stay longer then? I did take tomorrow off too. Nowhere to be, and plenty of fresh fish and beer at home,” he said.

Will looked into Allan’s eyes, and saw the kindness there. True kindness. Sure, everyone was capable of darkness, and they all had the capability to think of killing, but he did see warmth. Something he’d not genuinely seen in Hannibal. Not in this way. With a lick of his lips, he nodded. “Sounds like we should stay a bit longer then. Maybe work up more of an appetite.”

Fischer felt heat in his loins from every word that left the tempting and beautiful mouth of the brunet. He wove their fingers together and tugged him closer, towards the path. “Let’s finish our walk and circle back.” He’d no idea what he was getting himself into, but he wanted very much to explore it deeper.

“Good idea,” Will agreed, his tone husky, and deep. He squeezed Allan’s hand, feeling content, and yet there was a bit of conflict in his mind. Not over what they’d done, or would do, not over him doing the aforementioned with someone other than Hannibal or even a man in general, but it was due to his motives. Or his goal rather. Luckily, there was plenty of time to contemplate.


	3. Chapter 3

The two men walked and talked, and Fischer found himself the entire way touching Will at every opportunity, a hand on the small of his back, up across his shoulder blades, enjoying the feel of firm, lean muscles. Each time he felt those sea blue eyes on him, he felt his tawny cheekbones heat up and a tightening in his groin, heart racing with excitement. 

By the time they got back to his house, Fischer couldn’t wait to kiss him again, and he knew it was reciprocal. He pulled off his jacket and kicked off his boots when they walked in the doorway and turned to him. “Would you like another beer or ahh…” he said, focused on Will’s lips.

Will definitely wanted that too. He leaned in after toeing off his boots, and kissed him, arms going around his neck. “I’m in the mood for something else,” he whispered, his balls full and heavy. He felt alight for the first time in a long time and decided to not think anything else.

Fischer’s own arms slid low around Will’s waist as though they had always meant to be there, and he held him tight against his firm body, wanting to feel the pulse and flex of every muscle, every breath that moved through his body as he explored that delightful mouth. “You truly do have a gift for reading minds, Will Graham…”

With a seductive smirk, he ground his ground against Allan’s, growling just as he did and then started pulling at the Dane’s shirt. “Need to get these clothes off. That’s what you’re thinking now, right? Or is it just… me?”

Fischer helped Will by tugging his shirt up and over his head in between fevered kisses. It was strange to feel stubble beneath his lips, but tentative licks found his skin tasted sweet, and he wanted more. Will was warm like honey, and his ragged panting and heated response to him just fed his lust. “Not just you...Can we...yeah,” he mumbled, working on the buttons of Will’s flannel as well. 

“Yes,” Will replied with a sexual, deep hiss, hastily undoing his pants as Allan helped with his shirt. He shrugged it off his shoulders, then went to unfasten Fischer’s pants as well, kissing him all the while. It was different, being with a man, but he knew the mechanics. He knew how he felt and what he wanted. Finally, he shimmied out of his pants, just in boxer briefs and socks now, cock tenting obscenely, and began sucking kisses along his neck and shoulder. “Fuck…”

The Dane cupped his hand over Will’s cock, through the fabric of his boxers, squeezing the shape of him and groaning as he did so, his own equally large and filling out the front of his own underwear. “It feels so good, touching you. Do you like this?” he asked roughly, his lisp becoming more pronounced as his arousal grew.

Will nodded, and his tone was nearly shaky as he said, “Very much.” He licked his lips and reached his hand out, finding the hard swell of Allan’s erection. He groaned at how large he felt and between kisses he asked,  “Maybe we should go to the bedroom…”

Fischer bit Will’s bottom lip and groaned when he felt his hand on him, even through the fabric; strange having such a big, strong hand grip him, but it felt better than anything he’d felt before. “I agree. Come with me,” he whispered, and took Will’s hand, kissing one more time before leading him the short distance to his bedroom.

Once there, Fischer rifled through his drawer for a condom and lube, and set them on the nightstand. “I don’t really know...if we’ll need these but in case, you know…” he said, tugging off his own briefs and sitting on the edge of the bed as he looked up at Will with a grin.

Will grinned and walked over, considering making a joke about the blind leading the blind, but he was too turned on when he saw Allan there naked. He looked him up and down, then found himself standing in front of him as he pulled off his boxer briefs. His cock slapped his belly as he eyed the detective’s cock. Uncut. It was a curious thing, but he wasn’t put off. He was entirely on fire. “The lube yes, the condoms… well it’s…”

He wasn’t sure what to say really so he just straddled Allan’s lap, minding his dick as his hands rested on strong shoulders. Will kissed him once more, plundering his mouth. “We can take our time, feel this… and each other out. There’s no rush, we can work up to it.”

Fischer exhaled a sigh of relief and licked inside the brunet’s mouth eagerly. “We are on the same page, ja, ohhh,” he moaned, swirling and sucking Will’s tongue. Large palms roamed Will’s bare backside, palming his round, firm ass cheeks and kneading them, squeezing the soft flesh and massaging up his back.

It had Will’s cock leaking, and he reached between them and started to stroke, holding their cocks in his hand. He noted that Allan’s was a little veiny than his own, and darker, but still silky and hard all at once. He also really enjoyed having his ass messed with like that. “Touch me,” he whispered huskily, and reached over to grab the lube. He leaned in and kissed Allan’s neck, his hand still working, hips rocking slowly. “Just to… feel you.”

It also let Allan know he was okay with being the reciever. At least this first time. Will stood up, getting off Fischer’s lap since he wasn’t sure which way was best.

Fischer was shaking, and hadn’t felt so aroused and curious like this since he’d been a teenager. He felt a measure of awkwardness, but no judgement from Will, which aided him in becoming more comfortable. He took some of the clear silky fluid, drizzled it on his fingers, and then turned Will to look at his backside, admiring it. “I’ve never even looked at men’s asses before you, but you’ve got the nicest one I’ve seen on man or woman,” he chuckled deeply, rubbing his finger gently down the crevice and smooth cheeks.

Will had never been looked at like that. Not naked, and not from a man. His skin heated, and he turned a deep shade of crimson, looking over at Allan through his lashes. “We have that in common and… thanks. I-“ he trailed off, his breath hitching at the feel of the lubricated finger being there between his cheeks. “Oh…fuck. That’s  _ good _ .”

Allan leaned forward and brushed his lips down Will’s spine, kissing down the surprisingly soft skin and down to the curve of his hip.  Exhaling with hot breath against skin pale from being hidden by undergarments, he traced from one beauty mark to the next with the tip of his tongue, stopping to suck kisses as the pad of his finger pressed on the dip between his cheeks. “Does it feel good being touched here?” he asked in a husky voice as his teeth grazed over Will’s thighs.

Will reached his hand down and slipped his fingers through Allan’s dark strands. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with it, and exhaled. “Yes,” finally answered, blue eyes burning with lust and passion as he was touched in a way he’d never felt before. His instinct was to clench, but he relaxed, his cock throbbing at the sensation. “It feels phenomenal. Like we’re conjoining and beginning to blur.”

Fischer decided to change positions a bit and crawled up the bed, Will following, then rolled him onto his side and moving to face him. With one hand cupping his jaw, the other slipping back between his legs, he picked up a thick thigh and rested it over his waist while he resumed rubbing his lubed fingers over his entrance. Then he leaned in closer to kiss him slowly. There was no need to hurry, and this felt so decadent and indulgent. “Hmmhmmm…”

Will began to writhe, slowly, grinding his ass against Allan’s finger languidly. He kissed him back at the same pace, sucking his tongue, his free hand gliding over any part of the Dane’s skin he could reach. His eyes fluttered shut, a sea of deep, quiet groans slipping past his kiss swollen lips as they made out. “Allan,” he murmured, a fine sheen of sweat starting to coat his perfect skin. There wasn’t a rush, no, not at all. He was content to just explore him so reaching between their bodies, he used his fingers to wrap around the girth of Allan’s cock, thumbing over the tip. “Don’t…” he began, whispering over his lips, “don’t stop.”

Fischer’s breathing deepened and grew more erratic as Will touched him that way, slowly jerking him, and he slid one finger inside his ass finally. It was so tight, he marveled that anything at all would ever be able to fit. Gently he eased it in and out, the slick muscle of his tongue mimicking the motion of his thick finger. “Ahhh fuck yes...yeah...that’s it, skat,” he whispered.

Will inhaled sharply through flared nostrils, his broad, muscular chest heaving, nipples hard. “Oh, shit-” he groaned. There was a burn, but Allan was slow and steady, and the empath made himself relax, getting used to the sensation. It was really good after a few minutes of it, and he started to move back into the digit, his hole twitching around it as he deepened the kiss, getting more into it. “Fuck, yes. Allan…”

Fischer could feel Will’s nipples against his furry chest, and with his free hand slipped up his torso to tweak one, then the next, rolling the darkened buds between his rough fingertips. Allan fed from Will’s mouth and pushed a second finger inside. “Is that good, mmmm?”

“Burns a little, but… it’s perfect,” Will murmured, then plundered Allan’s mouth, biting a little to hard on his lower lip. He licked the bead of crimson that seeped out of the mark, growling as he did, rocking his hips back and forth when he felt his hole open to accommodate the fingers inside it. Will was amping up, the blood hot like battery acid, threatening to burn him alive with passion.

The bigger man slipped his fingers from the narrow channel and rolled on top of Will, spreading his thighs and hiking one leg over a muscular shoulder. Adding more lube to his hands, he took Will’s cock and stroked it as he rubbed under and behind his balls and pushed two finger back inside once more. He was warmed up, pliable and open now, and Allan’s eyes burned golden in the light as he smirked at him, a smudge of blood on the edge of his lip. “I can’t wait to feel you,” he rasped.

Will looked up at Allan, for one second, he did see Hannibal, but he knew he was with Fischer. It was only normal, he decided, to think that way, and then smiled back. “Then do it,” he whispered, huskily, moaning when he felt his prostate stroked. He was more than ready, and he fisted his own cock. He thought about offering oral sex but he wasn’t quite ready to do that just yet. What he did want was for them to meld together, to lose himself and come out on the other side with his… lover. All the feelings, all the build up. It had lead to this. With a shift of his jaw, he wrapped his free hand around the detective’s bicep and raised one brow. “ _ Please _ .”

Allan released his grasp on Will and slicked himself up thoroughly, taking no time to indulge, instead just rubbing the leaking head of his cock against the winking little opening before him. Locking eyes with the curly haired man, he pushed in, hoping he was doing everything right. His jaw dropped at the sensation that enveloped him, but he entered slowly, dropping to his elbows so he could gauge Will’s reaction. “Tell me, min skat, tell me,” he asked in a husky voice.

The vein in Will’s neck throbbed as his heart rate increased. His eyes rolled back and he wrapped both legs around Allan’s toros. It was a lot to take and instinct was to push him out but he steeled himself, drawing a breath as the pain started to slowly give way to pleasure. It was incredible and pain didn’t bother him anyway. He’d had more in other ways. Opening his eyes, he focused on Allan’s face, holding eye contact for longer than he had so far. “It’s good. Just...slow for now,” he groaned, pulling him down closer for a sloppy, passionate kiss. “Mmm...fuck-“

Fischer panted as he sucked Will’s tongue and returned the messy kisses urgently, though he remained in control, not pushing in any more than a little at a time. Slowly, steadily, he stilled himself, until he felt Will give way and allow passage. “No hurry needed. I want to savor this as long as we can...it feels...you feel so fucking good, so good,” he said. With both biceps bracketed around his head, he tilted Will’s head back enough to scrape his teeth down the side of his neck, over his pulse, licking at his skin and lapping up beads of sweat trickling down.

Will growled out a moan, his hands roving down Allan’s back, to his ass where he gripped and kneaded the muscular flesh. It was what he needed, and since he was opened up, it felt wonderful. His breath quickened, his hole twitching as his prostate was massaged slowly. “I’m,” he began, only to groan again, slipping fingers into dark strands. “Fuck. Faster. I’m okay. More than okay.”

A ragged moan came from the Dane’s throat, and he shifted his hips just enough to move them more easily, rolling quicker now as he eased into a rhythmic pace. Will’s strong grip on his flank and then in his hair told him he was doing all of it right, and he sucked hard kisses under his jawline to his lips, where he fed from his mouth with feral growls. Will’s body was tight, hot, and massaged every inch of his girth perfectly. “Ahhh, Will...Will…”

Likewise Allan’s cock tapped against his prostate relentlessly, turning the pleasure from a simmer to a boil, and he could feel warmth pooling in his groin as a result. His cock was pressed against from the rutting and all of that, combined with the kisses and the feel of the hot, furry, hard body against him, had the empath reeling, “Allan…” he moaned, raking his nails down Fischer’s back, leaving pink trails in his wake. He wanted to...mark him. Claim him for his own. This time he wouldn’t let the opportunity for companionship and love be swallowed by the sea of his doubt. No, this time he was going to keep them planted firmly on the foundation they were building. “Oh shit… yes, yes. Harder-”

Something wild awoke in Fischer when he felt those nails on his back, and he began fucking harder and faster into Will, their sweat mingling as his body was sucked deeper and deeper with every thrust inside his body. He locked his arms around Will’s head and devoured his mouth, drawing blood and licking it up through the ferocious kisses, leaving bruises on Will’s lips and neck, not caring who would see or know. “Will...Will...min skat...elsker dig… jeg eskler...dig…” he babbled in Danish, not realizing in the heat of the moment he might not know what he was saying.

“Fuck!” Will cried out, growling and groaning as he was fucked into the mattress. The bed knocked against the wall, dark curls clinging to his brow with sweat while their bodies slapped together. He felt the beast in Allan, it was dancing and blurring with his own, and it was….beautiful. With press of his hips, a strong thrust, he rolled Allan over with effort, his cock not slipping out, and started to ride him. Looking down, he smirked seductively, his nails digging into Fischer’s chest, one right over his heart as he ground down. “Ooh yes…”

Fischer loved how passionate the American was, how unafraid to take control he was, and when he rolled a top him, he looked up at him in wonder and lust, big hands roaming up his smooth torso, holding his hips steady as he rode him. Will looked graceful and powerful, bee stung, swollen red lips held open as he panted and moaned freely, eyes wild and dark. “You’re beautiful, so beautiful, oh god Will, I just…” Allan drifted off and wrapped a broad palm around Will’s erection, stroking him steadily, base to tip jacking him off.

Will’s orgasm was churning, his muscles were starting to tighten as he edged closer to the point of release. Fischer’s hand on him, only intensified the sensation. His breathing quickened, his chest heaving as he worked his hips, taking Allan balls deep. “So are you…” he heard himself say, never one for speaking such things usually, but he’d held so much in before. With Hannibal...with Alana. It was time for transparency - mostly. The thought alone had him reeling and it took a few more whips and thrusts, and he came, spurting hot and thick over the Dane’s fist, and onto his chest. “Allan-!”

The orgasm sent waves pulsing up Fischer’s thick shaft, massaging each inch, and he quickly followed after a few moments. Blunt nails buried into Will’s skin as he held on tight and came hard inside his ass, growling and grunting in English and Danish curse and prayers alike. He hadn’t experienced such a powerful climax in years, if ever, and he bit fevered kisses across Will’s neck and collarbone, desperately trying to bring his breath into control as he finished. “Will, god, Will...wow...just...fuck,” he gasped, rolling them to their sides.

“Agreed,” Will panted, smiling and tipping his face up towards Allan’s, letting long fingers explore sweaty skin until he reached the nape of his neck. Gently, he pulled him close for slow kiss, hooking his leg over his hip which made a bit of come trickle out of his ass. Not the most pleasant sensation, but it hardly mattered to him right now. What they had done was on a different plane, so to speak. It was the closest to true peace he’d ever found and without expectation. “That was ...you are… “ Will chuckled, not sure quite how to express himself. Maybe that was just fine. Sometimes words weren’t needed when he knew they both felt the same way.

Fischer cupped Will’s jaw and kissed him more. “I agree, min skat. Best day off ever,” he smirked, kissing his chin, lips and nose. Will blushed, and nodded, feeling indescribably giddy and sated. He kissed him again and hummed, quietly snuggling into Allan’s arms.

***

The next evening Will sat in the living room. No dogs. No Allan. No Hannibal. Just himself and the weight of his thoughts, his memories. There was blood on hands even if no one else could see it, and whispers in his mind, in his heart.

_ If I go, I’ll be different when I come back. _

Will had said that to Molly, and he was. Forever shaped and molded, or perhaps just released. Unhinged. Changed. He contemplated it. There was that ever looming darkness swirling around him like a fog over the water. Taking a drink of his whiskey, he curled his fingers around the glass.

_ Why don’t you just smell yourself? _

Hannibal was there. His scent and presence omnipotent, seemingly, and with that came the urges that Will had forced dormant for the past few months.

Months that has been...maddeningly polite.

He downed the rest of the amber fluid and stood, hardly affected or inebriated. Clear headed is what he was and while his feelings for Allan had grown, he knew it was time.

***

An hour later and Will was in a more seedy part of town. Alleys, whores, drunkards, and criminals. Righteous vengeance. He did have the appetite he’d denied to Hannibal, it was just a craving of a different sort. Not vastly different.

He strolled the streets, finding a pub, hearing his phone go off. It was Allan, a text. Will ignored it. Let him wonder, take away the alibi. After another whiskey he spotted him, some crazy son of a bitch who had just slapped his girlfriend, then sent her home in a cab, immediately proceeding to flirt with one of the bartenders.

It was perfectly timed when he saw the man stumble out into the back alley. Will set his money on the bar and followed. The woods nearby was where he lured the drunk, at least when he noticed he was also being watched by him. Will waited until they were shrouded in darkness, seemingly unaware of the man at his back and then he made his move. It was easy enough when he  ducked and moved. The asshole stumbled to the ground and Will kicked him in his side to get him to roll over on his back.

Danish curses came faster than he could keep up with, but it didn’t matter. The moon was bright, full, the creatures of the night seemed to watch and wait as Will straddled him, gripped his long ponytail to aid in dragging the blade across his throat. Blood sprayed warm and far, covering parts of him. Glorifies. He all but roared.

_ It really does look black in the moonlight. _

An hour later and Will had cleaned up the crime scene enough to keep it from being obvious that he was the one who did it to anyone else, save for Fischer. A test. Would he understand? Would he find it beautiful?

Will took the man’s watch and placed the clock face in his mouth, then he removed his heart and placed it in his hand once rigor mortis had made that bit easier. He was sweating from his efforts, and he appreciated then, just like he had in Lithuania and with Tier, just how much effort Hannibal had put into his efforts. He carved the chinese symbol for fate on his brow. A paradox there between logic and faith.

_ Fate and Circumstance have brought us to this point. _

To finish it off, he stripped him naked and positioned five thick, tall branches around him and placed night blooming jasmine where his heart was. The Greek five pillars of fate. Known to be hidden but now visible. Darkness blooming. The clock was ticking.

“I let the world know you, see you. Where I see beauty, and justice, they will too. He will.”

Or so Will hoped. He finished up, and gathered what he needed, nearly taking a kidney but he was no gourmand like Doctor Lecter, so he just settled for the man’s glasses. He wouldn’t be hurting anyone any longer and Hannibal would’ve been proud. He could feel him even more.

***

Fischer had slept in his second day off. His body was sore in new places, and he smirked proudly to himself as he got out of the shower and accessed his physique in the mirror. He still had it, he thought to himself, recalling with fondness the previous twenty four hours and his wonderful  _ date, _ or well, whatever it was, with Will Graham. He wondered what he was doing today. Best not to text right away and appear too needy. He’d wait.

He passed the rest of the day finishing up a few boring chores, laundry, dishes, cleaning, groceries. By that night, he’d finished dinner and was sitting in the living room a mite bored, drink in hand, when he decided one text couldn’t hurt. One text, and if Will wasn’t around, he wouldn’t push it.

_ Hey, just thinking of you. Hope you had a good one. _

He hit send and stared at his phone blankly a minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Well, fuck. With a sigh, he put his phone down and then picked it back up to see what La Cour was doing.

“Nothing of course because I have to work tomorrow,” he replied over the phone.

“I’m tired too, sorry to bother then. Goodnight,” Fischer replied.

***

His phone went off at 6 in the morning. It was work.

“I’m still off, Ingrid,” he groaned into the receiver.

“I’ll give you an extra day another time but we need you. We have an odd case and need you to come in. Now.”

He hung up and rolled out of bed to get dressed.


	4. Chapter 4

When Fischer arrived at work, Ingrid looked unhappy, her expression furrowed into worried creases as the other detectives turned to look at him. He was, of course, late. 

“Thank you for coming in on your day off, Fischer, please sit. So, what we have here is actually of interest because it’s not only a murder, but a showy one. Quite artistic, and it looks like this one is trying to send some kind of a message or get someone’s attention,” the redhead explained.

Allan looked behind her on the board at photos pinned up and listened as she went into detail about a murder that had occurred the night before. Something nagged at him as he examined the photos carefully. A particular care and method to the way the knots were tied. Clearly some medical knowledge, or at least butchering skills, with the cutting and removal of organs, anatomy.

“We need to get to the crime scene,” someone said in the background, and Fischer drained the rest of his coffee and nodded, tossing the empty cup and stepping out to jog outside to a car with the others.

Once there, the unease and familiarity he couldn’t point out continued to weigh on Fischer. What did it mean and why did he feel this way? La Cour squatted at the feet of the body while he peered at the watch inside his mouth, technicians around him marking and bagging evidence carefully.

“ _ Trying to get someone’s attention _ . Someone they..admire, maybe? This is a work of art, the detail that went into it. It stands out, Allan. We don't get crimes like this,” he observed.

“No, we don’t,” Fischer said. He was completely mystified.

Later, that night at home, he combed the crime databases looking for clues, for anything similar at all. And he found them. Il Mostro, in Florence. The Minnesota Shrike. The Chesapeake Ripper, in Baltimore. Their commonality was the same: the bodies were displayed artfully, almost for show.

Had this killer come to Denmark?

He thumbed over his phone and saw no reply yet from Will and frowned. It had been two days now. Maybe it wasn’t too desperate to follow up.

_ Everything ok? _

_ *** _

Will was home, cleaned up, his trophy hidden away behind a loose board in the floor. He still had a some remorse, a bit of regret for what he’d done, but it wasn’t enough to stop or turn himself in. That would defeat the purpose. Walking over to the bathroom, he looked at himself in the mirror, observing antlers that sprung from his head, horns from his back. Blood covered his skin. As quickly as it was there, it was gone, and he took a few shaky breaths afterwards.

It was the text that shook him from it and he plucked it from his pocket, his shirt open and exposing his muscular torso.

With a smile, he texted back.

_ Yes. I apologize for not responding last night. It was busy, but I was...thinking of you too. _

Fischer looked at his phone and wondered at the strange pause in the middle of the text. He felt off, but pushed the feeling away. It was probably just the investigation.

_ Would love to see you again. I’m on a case, but I have a little time tonight. Are you around? _

Will walked into the living room, then out on the deck.

_ So would I. I’m free anytime tonight. I’ll make dinner. _

Fischer’s heart started beating faster. He missed the curly haired brunet, a lot, even in the two or three days since he’d seen him. A smile spread across his face and he quickly texted back.

_ Your place then? I’ll bring beer? _

Will’s pulse was racing too. He’d missed Allan and was more than ready to see him. Nearly dropping the phone, he chuckled at himself and pecked out a reply.

_ S’long as you bring yourself, I’ll be happy. See you at my place. _

Fischer licked his lips and swallowed slowly, feeling his stomach flutter with excitement like a schoolboy with a crush. Those intense blue eyes, kittenish, soft red lips...he ran a hand through his long shaggy dark hair and lit a cigarette.

_ See you soon. Xx _

Will grinned to himself, and tucked his phone into his pocket, going back inside after a few minutes to start getting dinner ready. Tonight would be the beginning, the beginning of the unveiling.

***

It was after dark and Will had made a jambalaya. One of the few recipes he knew from home. Old fashioned creole, complete with sausage, dirty rice, shrimp and various other things. He baked some bread with it, not homemade but they’d go well together, as would the beer. He hoped Allan liked it. Idly, he wondered if Hannibal would have. He figured he might have been pleased if for no other reason than he cooked it himself, and it was rooted in his upbringing. There’d likely be some probing questions about how he grew up and did the dish make him think back to fond memories.  

That made him shake his head. Sadness and love both swelling in his chest. Will pushed it away. He was looking forward to tonight with Allan and he wouldn’t let the ghosts of the past ruin that. When he’d set the table, he went onto the porch, sitting down once more in his chair, just waiting and watching.

Fischer looked at himself in the rear view mirror and checked his breath, popping a piece of gum before grabbing the six pack on the side beside him and climbing out. He couldn’t stop grinning as he stepped into view of he porch and saw Will sitting there, legs spread, those keen blue eyes fixed on him, a mysterious look on his face behind that handsome smile.

“Hej hej kæreste, how are you?” he asked as he ran up the steps and leaned down to greet him with a kiss.

Will, who had stood when he saw Allan pull up, wrapped his arms around him. He kissed him slow and deep, not just a peck. Underneath and behind his forts, he was more than capable of passion, which is what he felt for Fischer.

“I’m good, glad you’re here,” Will admitted, blushing even as he said it. He let go so he could open the door and let him in.

Inside, the scent of food hung thickly in the air, two candles lit in the center of the table, but nothing garish like Hannibal would have made. It would do, and he and Allan didn’t need fancy anyway.

“Hope you like jambalaya,” Will chuckled.

The Dane inhaled deeply; the smell was amazing. He murmured his delight and rubbed his belly. “I’ve never eaten it before, don’t even know what’s in it, though I’ve heard of it. It smells fuckin amazing I have to say, skat. I’ve not had much American food - This looks great.” He moved behind Will and rubbed his ass with a smirk, walking to the mantle to set down his phone.

Will took a breath when he felt Allan’s hands on him, his pupils dilating. He turned and kissed him once more, his hands roving over his chest. “We should eat then…” he husked, clear he wanted Fisher then and there but there was much to discuss and he was hungry. “It’s mostly sausage, shrimp, rice and spices.”

Letting go, he walked to the table and looked up at Allan. “C’mere.”

Fischer was so enamored of Will, his tanned cheekbones darkened at Will’s accent and the deep, rough way he asked, the look in his eyes when he beckoned him. He obeyed, walking up to Will until he was so close he had to dip his chin a bit to maintain eye contact. “Yes, min skat?”

Will felt his cock stir at that. He loved how smoky Allan’s voice was, how his accent sounded as well. Meeting his eyes, he licked his lips, fingers lifting to touch the sharp features of the detective’s face. “I just… I just wanted you…” he trailed off, and leaned near his lips, his words ghosting, “to come closer and sit so I could serve your dinner.”

However, he couldn’t resist one more kiss. He closed the distance wrapping his muscular arms around Allan, slipping his warm tongue between perfectly shaped lips with a throaty groan.

Allan wrapped his arms around Will entirely. “Three days,” he whispered. “Felt like an eternity. Am I too...is it too ahhh... _ uncool _ of me to admit that?” he asked with a soft chuckle.

“It has,” Will whispered back, shaking his head as he chuckled back and kissed Allan again. He was truly happy to see him again, his heart felt full and revived. Like he could breathe again. “Not  _ uncool  _ in the least. Then again, I’ve never wanted to be...cool.”

Fischer brushed a thumb over Will’s cheek. “Good, good. I don’t either, just...just missed you. Just feels so good to have you here again. You...you okay? You feel good?” he asked. He sensed a slight shift in Will’s energy, a heat in his blood, something more. More energy maybe? He couldn’t tell what it was.

Will found that curious but then again Allan was a bit of an empath he’d said and being a detective helped with that. He licked his lips. “It’s good to be around you. I have thought of you a lot. I wanted to text you sooner...was busy and it sounds like you were too with a new case you said?” Will moved back and tugged him to the table to sit. “Let me get your food.”

He went over to the pot of food, and the bread, setting it between the two tables before he sat down. “Tell me about it?”

Fischer sat and placed a napkin in his lap. Normally he’d never discuss a case with a civilian, but Will was law enforcement, well formerly anyway. Besides, maybe he could offer some valuable input. “It’s unlike anything I’ve seen here before. And oddly, it mirrors in some ways a few other international cases that had very unique features,” he began, taking a sip of his beer.

“Murder, but not left the way you find a traditional crime scene. It was arranged painstakingly, one could say artfully, to be viewed like some kind of display. Things like arms bent back, a clock in the victim's mouth. Props, decorations, if you can call things on a corpse such…” he drifted off, waiting for the food.

Will reached over and grabbed the pot from the center of the table and used the ladle to dish out the jambalaya for both of them. He set the bread basket between them so they could grab what they needed, and then opened the beer Fischer had brought, taking a swig. “A sculpture molded with flesh, blood, and bone,” he said, nodding with understanding. “What did you feel when you saw it? Any notes left or trophies taken?”

Taking a bite, he hummed, it was good. Not bad at all. Will took a piece of bread and tore it in half, hoping Allan would like it too.

Fischer raised his eyebrows and nodded. He savored his first bites and after swallowing hummed his compliments to Will. “This is outstanding. Nothing taken, in fact that’s one of the only differences between this and the others. The others had organs removed and taken. This one, the heart was removed but placed elsewhere, not taken away, no organs missing.” He took another bite and watched Will, eyes focused on his lips as he ate.

“Thanks,” Will smiled, wiping his mouth before dipping the bread into the bowl, and taking another bite. He washed it down with beer. It wasn’t bad at all. “Why do you think this killer is doing this? Why now and what could the clock and the heart mean?”

The empath could feel his blood heating, and he leaned forward to be closer to Allan, to watch him. He was getting to be Hannibal Lecter, just as Hannibal had once stepped into his shoes as a replacement Will Graham.

Fischer thought he sensed excitement from Will, but he assumed it was professional curiosity. “I believe he’s trying to get someone’s attention. It’s flamboyant, maybe a message. The killer in the other cases - well he was sending messages to someone, and I think this very well may be the same kind of scenario. I just...it requires more digging. For one thing, I need to find out more about the Italy and US cases,” he said, wiping his mouth and dipping bread into his bowl.

Will took a few more bites, then cleared his throat. “You need to find out who the message is for and why,” he suggested, letting his foot bump up against Allan’s. It was beautiful, their exchange, and he did feel a sprig of zest not only from it, but the murder itself. “Was the victim anyone of importance?”

Fischer rubbed his ankle against Will’s affectionately. “No. Not at all. Actually a domestic violence abuser. Fucker beat his wife. Strange, and we are trying to see if there could have been any connection but, no idea what it could be.”

“Sounds like maybe he got what was comin’ to him,” Will drawled, and then took a pull from his beer. He licked his lips and inhaled through his nostrils when he felt Fischer’s response to him. “I… I think sometimes bad things happen to bad people… justice. This killer likely knew what he was and used him for his art because of that.”

“Have you ever had a case like this?” Fischer blurted out impulsively. It was just a sudden, strange feeling he had, and he wasn’t even sure what drove him to ask it. He simply did. Maybe it was nothing. He took another bite of his bread and chewed thoughtfully as he watched Will’s face.

“Yes,” Will answered, leaving it at that unless Allan decided to dig deeper. He wanted him to, but he knew that either way things would come out eventually. It would be rude to lie considering that fact. “I have.”

_ I prefer sins of omissions to outright lies. _

Taking the last bite, Will leaned back and rubbed his belly. “Do you have any leads?”

Fischer considered Will’s limited reply, trying not to read into it; it seemed he had more to say that he wasn’t, but he adored the handsome former detective so much, he couldn’t see very far beyond that. “Nothing yet. Absolutely nothing. It’s the most unique case anyone in our crew has seen. Frankly it’s chilling when you have no one who you’re up against, you know, skat?” He sighed, reaching over to take Will’s hand and squeeze it lovingly.

In that moment, Will’s empathy and his own feelings nearly overwhelmed him, all inwardly, nothing to show. He nodded, giving a sympathetic smile and squeezed Allan’s hand. “Yes, I know that feeling well,” he said, and meant it. With his free hand, he finished his beer and pushed his bowl aside, exhaling through his nose as he looked at Fischer. The darkness within himself was still there, it wasn’t gone just because of some waves of guilt. No, he was decisive in this moment. “Let’s have a drink on the couch. Whiskey or beer?”

Fischer looked into Will’s beautifully intense blue eyes and nodded. “Whiskey. You know, do you think you’d consider helping us with the case? With your experience, you might see something we miss, elskede,” he suggested, helping him gather the dirty dishes as they got up.

After they put the dishes in the sink, Will grabbed the whiskey and the glasses then walked him over to the couch. “I...sure. I would like to see the crime scene if possible,” he said with a smile as he sat down and poured them two fingers. Inwardly, it was what he was hoping for. Killers often revisited the scene of the crime. This would be interesting.

Handing over the glass, Will took a sip of his own, his body angled towards Allan’s once he sat down. “Tomorrow?”

The Dane ran long, thick fingers down the side of Will’s face, twirling a silky curl around a digit and smiling at him. “Yes, tomorrow. I will of course need to check with the team but yes. The sooner the better. The corpse has been removed, perhaps you can see that has well.” He took a thoughtful sip of whiskey, savoring it.

Will turned his face to capture Allan’s finger, taking it into his mouth once. He let it go with a gentle pop, then licked his lips, taking another sip of his whiskey. “I think that’s a good idea,” he said, his eyes not leaving the detective’s. He moved closer, setting his drink down, then moved in to give him a soft, seeking kiss.

Fischer met his mouth with a heat of his own, tongue lapping around the edges and taking up stray drops of honeyed liquor as they danced around each other eagerly, neither in any kind of rush. Fischer abandoned his drink on the table as he kissed Will with a slow, steady passion, humming into him deeply.

“Fuck…” Will groaned into the kiss, his fingers reaching and seeking, tangling in Allan’s hair as his breathing became faster and hard. He battled his tongue, teeth clacking occasionally, sounds of sloppy, wet, slow kisses filling the room. It was hot as hell, just kissing him like this. Will realized he’d never had such a passionate lover. Maybe Hannibal would have been, but he wasn’t on his mind right now.

Will’s passion stoked the flames in the Danish man, and with both hands he gripped either side of his face, exploring his mouth with a hunger that communicated his lust and love for him. Will tugged Allan back on top of him, spreading his legs to accommodate on the couch feeling that insatiable for him.

“I’ve never wanted anyone...the way I do you,” Will murmured, grunting as he writhed underneath him.

Long dark tendrils fell into his face as Fischer climbed over Will and began working open the buttons of his shirt, letting his rough hands roam freely across the skin of Will’s smooth chest. Three days, yet for Fischer it felt like the first time. He felt such a deep love for this man, it was like a burning in his chest that ran through cells and tissue to his very soul. “Neither have I, Will...no one,” he panted.

“Good…” Will panted. He knew Allan was being honest, and he felt it all the way to his marrow. It surged through him, heating him up like a live wire, bolts of electric, passionate emotion burning him pleasurably. It was overwhelming, feeling his feelings and Fischer’s - something he’d normally block out but the detective had found a way to open him, just as Hannibal had, though this was in a different way. When his shirt was undone, he managed, with Allan’s help to get it off, then reached for his as well, working until both men were bare chested. “I don’t intended to ever share you.”

“You wouldn’t have to, skat.” Fischer took Will’s hand and placed it on the center of his furry chest. “You have this.” He leaned forward and kissed him again, rough and biting, not breaking skin but demanding just the same, fingers twisted into curls and yanking at them a bit harder than he had thus far.

Will raked his nails down Allan’s chest, around and over his heart, then to his nipples to pinch as he was handled roughly. It made his cock throb with anticipation. “Neither will you,” he promised, giving the vow that his heart was with Fischer. It struck him then, he would always have a place for Hannibal, but he had to move on, at least from the romantic love he carried inside. “Oh yes… like that.”

Fischer’s kisses moved down his throat, growling as his sharp teeth grazed down sweet skin. He tasted so good, sweet, salty sweat and musk. A taste that was uniquely Will’s alone. “Is it good, yes?” He asked, voice rough and Danish accent thick as he reached down to his waist to unfasten his pants. “I ahh...hope you don’t think I’m taking advantage of you, skat…”

Will raised a brow at that after a nod at the first question. It was endearing and almost made him chuckle. Mostly because he hadn’t ever had anyone say it and the need to laugh was just the emotion that almost surfaced. Instead he wriggled out of his pants and then hooked his legs around Allan, then used his strength to get them both rolled on to the floor. They landed with a thud and he was now on top of him, then kissed him passionately. “Does this convince you that I’m more than willing?”

“That it does, yes,” Fischer huffed a laugh as he landed on the floor, more than delighted with the weight of Will a top him, and he wrapped both arms around him as they kissed. He hastily tugged his own off as well and kicked pants shoes socks and underwear to the side as they rolled around on the carpet for a few moments before finally both were nude.

“Good,” Will replied, his tone husky as reached over to the coffee table and pulled a bottle of lube from a little side drawer. He set it aside, close, then got between Allan’s legs. Taking his cock in hand, he eyed him. “I’ve never done this before but…”

Will ran his tongue around the head, after unsheathing it, then starting pressing with the slick muscle under the glans, never letting his eyes falter.

Fischer wasn’t expecting it, and the wet, warm and velvety mouth and rough tongue sent a bolt of pleasure through him. “Oh f-f-fuck...Will…” he gasped out. He couldn’t believe the bold way Will’s eyes penetrated his own even as they grew watery from his efforts. His thighs fell to the side to afford him even more space to move.

It was all or nothing now. Will wasn’t going to give into fear or hold back. He wanted Allan, all of him, wanted to open up to him in ways he hadn’t anyone, not even Hannibal. This was for the long haul, or so he hoped. A real joining of souls, so to speak. He was really happy with his reaction though, and he decided he would just do what he liked and see if Fischer did. So he opened his mouth a bit more, inhaling through his nose, and took a few more inches down, using one hand to play with his balls and perineum.

“Ahhh Will…!” Fischer moaned, his hips jerking up as hands flew down into Will’s curls and gripped both sides of his head. He hadn’t meant to be so dominant, but found himself enjoying it for a second, guiding Will’s head up and down a few strokes before grunting and letting go, his head falling back against the couch as his toes curled. “Gods that’s so good. Oh Will…”

Will didn’t mind. He wasn’t submissive, no, but feeling the aggressive desire pumping through Allan really turned him on even more. He popped off, catching his breath, then went down to mouth around those fat, furry balls, moaning as he did before moving back to his cock. “I like that…” he assured, referring to how Fischer was responding, then took him down to the root. He choked a little, then quickly recovered, lathing his tongue as he went up and down.

Fischer was thrilled at Will’s admission; though it wasn’t something in the forefront of his mind, it was worth remembering and exploring, another time. But now in this moment, the way the American was working him over, he knew he wasn’t going to last long. After a few more minutes, he tugged at Will, pulling him up. “Come, oh god...come up here. I need to be inside you elskede, now,” he insisted roughly.

“Yeah,” Will huffed, lustfully, needing it too. He grabbed the lube and handed it to Allan, kissing him passionately before bending over the couch, arching his back. It felt a little strange, exposing himself in such a way, even if they had had sex once already, but it was also exhilarating. “I need you, Allan.”

“Gods, Will, I need you too, min skat, I need you too…” Fischer panted, stroking his backside and squeezing the flesh. He lubed himself up and tapped his cock against one peachy, curved ass cheek. Slipping the tip over to his twitching hole, he pressed inside with a groan, draping himself over Will’s back and kissing his spine. “Oh….for helvede, min skat...ahhh…”

Will hissed out a pleasure filled moan, gripping the cushions on the couch. He relaxed, letting Allan all the way in and looked over his shoulder to feel that connection even more. “Fuck, yes,” he grunted, then took one hand to spread himself more, starting to fuck himself onto the detective’s sizeable cock. “Harder. Faster. I want to feel you for days.”

Fischer wanted to get lost in Will, he could feel it spreading in his chest like fingers wrapping around his heart and gripping him, embedding into the muscle and becoming a permanent part of him. He’d been in love before, but this was far far more intense, deeper than that. More than what he’d ever thought “love” was before. This was a primal need, a hunger, a desire to possess and be possessed, an overwhelming sensation that he was forever bound to Will and meant to be with him. He had to. He pounded into him with a growl, one hand clawing up the detective’s back, tangling in his curls and pulling again. “Will,” he rasped in a demanding tone, his other hand gripping his flank painfully hard.  

“Allan, yes,” Will growled out, feeling the same staggering sense of euphoria, love, and lust. It was as though all roads had lead precisely to here. He didn’t want to lose him as he had Hannibal, as he had others in his life. It was a dark warmth that enveloped him, a spike of pleasure from being taken so hard - just how he liked it. Their beasts were mingling, dancing, and howling together, and the empath could feel it to his core. He grunted, moaning, and rutting back, meeting each harsh thrust, the sounds of their coupling filling the room with smacking and slapping.

Angling his hips, Fischer moved deeper still inside Will, tapping on his prostate with every thrust, the noises coming from his throat nearly feral in nature as sweat began to fall from his brow onto Will’s muscular, bare back. Pulling out suddenly, he moved back and maneuvered him roughly by his slim waist, taking him to the carpet to lay him flat and climb a top him. “I want to see your eyes, when you come,” he said as he positioned himself between Will’s legs.

Will spread them wide, hitching them up as his hole remained ready and willing. “Yeah, me too,” he managed to say and then gripped Allan, pulling him closer still so his cock could enter him once more. He didn’t want to be without that delightful fullness, he needed to keep feeling him. He was growing addicted, and oh so in love with the man on top of him. It was an incredible revelation. “C’mere, don’t stop.”

Fischer plunged inside and started right where he’d left off, fucking Will with abandon, amber eyes piercing stormy blue ones. Leaning up on one elbow, he stroked Will’s cock and rolled his hips over and over, the wet heat of Will’s body sending him closer to the edge with every thrust.

“Couldn’t if I dared,” he huffed out.

“Good,” Will murmured raggedly, his legs wrapping around the back of Allan’s thighs. He gripped his ass, digging his nails hard into the muscular flesh as he all but roared. He was far more vocal than normal, the squelch of lubrication adding a debauched feel to what they were doing. He was close, oh so close.

So was Allan. The sounds coming from his love’s throat along with the expressions of passion painted across his face sent him over the edge. With a roar Fischer came hard, biting beneath Will’s ear, along the side of his neck, and moving up to his elbows to kiss his mouth. “God, Will, of Will, Will,” he cried out as he filled him with his seed.

“Allan,” Will groaned out, feeling himself explode, come spurting out of his cock between them. He held Allan’s gaze the entire time, not wanting to miss a minute of it, his shaft pulsing, tip swollen and red from release as his body relaxed. He panted, licking hotly into his lover’s mouth, feeding their slowly as they started to come down from their high. “Oh yes… that was… just as good as the first time.”

“That it was, min elskede. You’re amazing.” Fischer held Will for a long while like that, the two men enjoying each other’s warmth, until they decided to get up and shower off together, which was glorious. They bathed one another, made out some more, and after an hour, they got out.

Fischer was drying off when he looked at his phone and noticed a text. Will walked over, a towel around his hips, damp curls brushed back. He raised a brow and looked at Allan. “Work?”

The Dane’s face was pale was shock and he nodded as he sat down on the bed slowly. “So you say you worked on a case like this one, right? Looks like the very same ones I pulled up. Chesapeake Ripper. Does the name Hannibal Lecter mean something to you?” He asked, looking up at Will with an expression akin to disbelief. He held out his phone and showed an article his colleague had texted that showed Will’s face and the headline “no charges”.

Will anticipated this. Clearly. The hour was upon them. He began to pace, rubbing his jaw with a sigh before walking over to drop the towel and pull on his underwear and pants. He sat down. “Yes. He’s the one I mentioned. The experience I had. As you can see you bear a striking resemblance to him.”

“You could sure say that. You...were his patient. His alleged accomplice but they...cleared your name, I see. I...I don’t know what to say, Will. You should have told me,” he said, looking through the photos sent.

Will could feel Allan’s emotions, and it was overwhelming, though again, not unexpected. He could understand it, and while he hadn’t lied outright, he had omitted many sins. “We mostly just had...conversations. And they didn’t always end well,” he explained, then pointed to the scar on his belly. “We were in love, though I didn’t know I was until after I pulled him off of an eroding bluff. I know this is a lot to…. Process.”

Fischer’s face changed, emotions rolling over him like a tsunami. Anger, jealousy, resentment. He got up and began to pace.  He was a temperamental man, given to impulsivity and it had gotten him in hot water more than once, but this was a man he loved. Deeply. Fury was on the top of his tongue, and he turned to face Will, eyes reddened and wet. “You fucking think? What I am, a tool to get over your grief? A replacement for your fucking ex boyfriend? I think…” he stared at him, the pain in his chest almost too much. “Why did he do that?” He asked jerking a finger at Will’s scar.

Will went to pour them both a whiskey. He gestured to Allan’s to let him decide as he downed his in one go, then poured one more before leaning against the counter. He watched his lover keenly, his eyes full of emotion, darkness, love, so many things. “You were, yes. At first,” he answered honestly, “but then I  _ saw _ you. Got to know you and realized you are nothing like him and… I don’t think I want you to be. I… love you, and this is a fucked up time to say that but you need to know it’s not something I say lightly, to anybody.”

Gesturing, Will took another pull from his glass, sucking his lower lip through his teeth and biting it, letting it go with a pop. “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, and pissed you off. Maybe i’m just a crazy son of a bitch,” he said with a shrug. “This scar? It was his forgiveness when he felt I’d betrayed him. Do you feel I have done the same to you?”

Fischer shook his head. “It seems impossible. Some man that looks like an older version of me, halfway round the world, is killing and eating people, and you come here and happen to find me and...fall in love? Is it even me you love, Will? I’m not him. I’m a police officer. I fucking help people. I am angry, yes. I do feel betrayed. Even if you didn’t lie...I know you didn’t, but this still feels like a betrayal to me, this pain,” Fischer said loudly. He was hardly ever this verbal, usually he would simply lose his temper and leave. That was what he always did. Perhaps it was a testament to how deeply he did love Will that he was even still here and talking.

Will’s eyes began to burn with emotion. His voice raised as well when he finally spoke again. “I just  _ told  _ you that it’s you I love,” he said, starting to pace more frenetically. “I know what you do. But  _ you  _ need to know that I’ve killed…” he took a shuddering breath, looking at Allan through long, almost puppy dog eyes then. “and I-I liked it. I felt powerful.” The empath crouched then on the flow, scrubbing his hands over his face. “ If I had told you all of this from the beginning we...we never would have had a chance so all I can hope is that you’ll forgive me. Hannibal is dead now.”

Fischer turned and looked at Will. “Is he really dead? Because he seems to be alive and well in you. You enjoyed it...well, I...i've taken life too. It can be carnal and powerful but ultimately it was painful to me. Bearing the responsibility in your hands to give and take life like a god, knowing how temperamental I can be, it’s hard enough being a cop and bringing people to justice. Death isn’t enough justice in many instances.” Allan didn’t know what he was saying. He felt sick and he was babbling almost feverishly.

“He died in my arms that day, and yes, a part of who we once loved always lives...inside us,” Will answered, sighing. The rest of what was said, he could empathize with, obviously, especially since he dealt with grief and fear over what he’d done and wanted to continuing doing. “I killed justly… I don’t….  _ Delight _ in wickedness without purpose. Righteous vengeance… and yes, sometimes death isn’t good enough for them. You just need to tell me what you’re planning on…  _ doing _ about all of this, Allan.”  

Fischer stood then and walked towards Will, crouching on the floor near him. “Well, I’m not turning you in. I  _ love _ you, as hard as all this is to process...I’m in love with you. For the sake of protecting us I must ask you, have any of these murders occurred in Denmark, yet?” he reached out a hand, placing it on Will’s shoulder and dipping his chin down to look him in the eye.

Part of Will had expected Allan to turn him in, or to stop speaking to him. It always seemed that he was just having one hell of a bad period in his life. He drew a breath and looked back into his eyes, nodding. “I love you too, and I mean I love  _ you _ , Allan, for who you are,” he said, meaning it. This would be the part, where he Hannibal, that he lied and manipulated, but he felt something swirling inside that couldn’t. Besides, he was showing himself to the detective.

_ To the truth and all its consequences. _

“And… yes. Your new case... “

Fischer walked to Will and looked deep into his eyes. Amber glossed wet with tears, anger, betrayal and passion, love he had for Will. “I said I wouldn’t turn you in and I’m a man of my word. But I’m going to need some time.” He picked up his keys and coat and walked to the door.

Will wasn’t happy about that. He didn’t want him to, but he wouldn’t stop him. He just wasn’t pushy in that way. With a hard swallow, he nodded, emotion swelling his breast. It was a combination of both of theirs. “Alright. If… If that’s what you think is best. Thanks for um, not turning me in,” he said, opening the door for Allan. “Goodnight, Allan.”

Once he was gone, all Will could do is contemplate. He had a whiskey, and then another, trying to think of what he might do. Hannibal would have known right away. Hell, he’d waited three years locked in a prison cell. Will couldn’t do  _ that  _ though. No, he’d have to think of something else.


	5. Chapter 5

Fischer was prone to drink when he was depressed, and what he felt now was far worse than that. He felt gutted; he was in love with Will, but now he had no idea what was what anymore. In fact, his only saving grace was his son, Carl. Mitte and her new husband were going out of the country on holiday, and left the child with him, so he was distracted and had no time to wallow in his own misery. It angered him in a way, his ex wife being so selfish as to take an unplanned holiday without even asking him first, but he had so much sick time and vacation saved up, Ingrid allowed it without question. 

A week passed, and he was rather enjoying the alone time with his little one. They were reading books together, playing in the small wood behind his home, normal father/son activities, and it felt like a lovely indulgence to have this time with him.

Which was why it was shattered the morning he got a knock on the door and saw Ingrid herself there. His boss almost never came by to see him, not all the way in the country like this. Her face told him it wasn’t a good visit.

“Where’s Carl?” she asked solemnly as she came in and sat down at the kitchen counter.

“He’s still in bed. Just say it, what is it?”

“Mitte and Isak are dead. They were murdered in a robbery gone wrong on the way back, at the train station.”

Fischer sat down, eyes wide with shock, and swallowed hard in shock. “Have you found the person?”

“No. The bodies were just found last night. Hours ago. I’m sorry, Allan,” she said gently, placing her hand over his. She knew what it was like to lose a spouse, even if they were divorced, the woman was still the mother of his child.

He rubbed his hands over his face. “How am I supposed to tell him? He’s three? How do I tell him he’ll never see his Mor again?”

Ingrid just shook her head and sat quietly with him, not saying anything. There was nothing to say. Nothing to make it better, no way to ease the pain, nothing to do but be there.

***

Will had been listening on the scanner and had heard about Allan’s ex-wife and her husband; he’d also seen it in the paper. He was glad his son was alright though. It partially explained why he’d not heard from him at least but there was still a void inside. It was like he’d lost him. Just like he had Hannibal after that fall. It wouldn’t do. He’d been alone enough in his life.

So that’s when he decided to pay  _ him  _ a visit. He got dressed in his nice trousers and oh did they fit well, a navy blue button up, the first undone, and got a haircut. He trimmed his beard and put on a little aftershave.

Once he arrived, he jogged up the steps and knocked, hoping he was home.

Fischer opened it and was frankly shocked to see Will standing there. He was the last person he expected, although he’d have been lying to say he wasn’t on his mind.

“Hey, uh. Will. Come in,” he said, his gaze softening as he saw the handsome man there, and even with everything on his mind, the sight of Will took him aback. No denying - he was breathtaking. As to Allan, he wore old jeans and a white tee shirt, his dark hair wet from having just showered after putting Carl down for the night.

Will felt whole just being in Allan’s presence. It wasn’t Hannibal he was thinking of. It was all Allan. He gave an uncertain smile, not letting himself feel at the moment; he didn’t know what he’d find. Still when he saw that way Fischer looked at him, there was relief. He nodded and walked inside. “Thanks,” he said, rubbing his jaw as he ventured further in. Looking over his shoulder at him, he licked his lips in thought. “I… I heard about...everythin’. I’m sorry for your loss but I’m glad Carl is okay.”

Fischer walked into the living room and over to the bar, opening a bottle of whiskey and taking down two glasses to pour them each a bit without even asking Will if he wanted any. “Thanks. Here you go,” he said, handing the glass to him, which he took. “I haven’t even had the heart to tell him yet. He’s just a baby still. She was his mother for fuck’s sake. He’s too small to even...too young to have to process this. It’s not fucking fair,” he said, sinking down onto the sofa. 

Will swirled the glass, then took a sip, nodding his thanks to Fischer for the whiskey. He walked over and sat next to him. “It’s not fair,  _ life  _ doesn’t always give us a good...hand, I guess,” he said, tightening his jaw. He wanted to reach out and comfort him but he didn’t just yet. “You’ll know when it’s the right time to tell him.”

Fischer took a long drink, tilting his head back and draining the glass almost entirely at once. “Yeah,” he said grimly. “I’m just so angry, you know? I feel helpless. Nothing I can do. No way I can protect him from any of this. Ingrid won’t let me investigate. I’m going to do my own investigation,” he said, a dangerous look in his eyes as dark amber met sky blue.

Will finished his drink with a few swigs, enjoying the burn. He set his glass down. “The killer needs righteous vengeance. Retribution,” he said, his tone deep and deadly. He didn’t bring up what had happened before or how Allan hadn’t contacted him since, he would communicate in...other ways, if it wasn’t mentioned. “I can help you. If you ask me to…”

Hannibal’s words used on a different tongue, but equally as powerful.

Fischer finished the rest of his and stood sharply then. “More?” he asked, without yet addressing Will’s offer. He took the whole bottle back to where they sat and poured himself some, titling it towards him and finally meeting his gaze. His eyes were fiery, impassioned, a lion baring its teeth behind a cage. Would he do this? Would he take that step? Even he himself wasn’t sure in the moment. He was still full of emotion.

Will saw a spark there. A resonance.  _ Potential _ . He saw that in his...beloved. Perhaps not words he’d use but nonetheless. With a nod, he held out his glass, letting Allan fill it. “Thanks,” he said, not asking again. He’d give him a moment to think it over but either way, Will was going to go on a hunt.

Fischer took a sip. Even as he felt the emotions boiling inside him, he knew he was feeling reckless, volatile and irresponsible, but it didn’t matter in light of the injustice to his son. How good it would feel to stand over that man and take it all away from him. “I don’t know Will. Maybe. I can see the appeal. It would...it would feel satisfying. But I have to find the fucker first,” he grumbled, voice rough with drink.  

Will nodded. “Yes,” he said with understanding. He took a pull from his glass, feeling Allan’s emotions. “This...might be bad timing but I need to know where  _ we _ are. If we’re going to work together, I think it’s important.”

Fischer looked at him carefully. “Where we are? Where we are is, you have to give me time. Trust is something that is lost in a moment and earned back in time, you understand? But I’m willing to try, Will,” he said, amber eyes softening. “I still love you, but this is...a lot to process. Grief, trust, all of this….it doesn’t go quickly,” he said, slowly reaching out to take Will’s hand.

Will wasn’t pushy. He just needed to know. “Yes. I know,” he said. He’d been gutted after all. He’d forgiven Hannibal for that but it had taken months. He nearly retracted his hand, feeling a little guarded. But he allowed it. “I...I love you too, Allan.”

The Dane drained his glass and left it on the table, still holding Will’s hand and looking at him. “I’m going to ask Ingrid if Gry can watch Carl for a few days. I don’t...it’s going to be hard enough. He shouldn’t see his father like this,” Fischer said, rubbing his eyes.

“I understand. That’s probably a good idea,” Will said, lacing their fingers together. It was hard for him too, though in a different way. His mind was running on several trains of thought only he didn’t have the lack of empathy to help steer. “Should I...would you like for me to go?”

_ Stay with me. Where else would I go? _

Fischer looked at their hands. He didn’t know how ready he was for renewed intimacy just yet, but he didn’t want to be alone. “You can stay. Please stay,” he said, and leaned back. “I really...I would like you to.”

Will only did that because Allan had taken his hand to begin with. He wasn’t there just to have sex. No, he wanted to see where they were at, have intimacy of a different kind, if possible, but at the very least Allan didn’t want him to go.

“I’ll stay then,” Will said, letting go of his Allan’s hand to give him space. “I’m...I’m sorry for hurting you.”

It wasn’t often that he apologized, but he didn’t want to hurt Allan, truly he didn’t.

Fischer was glad for that. It meant a great deal to him, and he crossed one long leg over the other as he observed the expression of regret on Will’s face. “Of course...I mean...yes, I get that. Thank you. I...I forgive you,” he said. While it hurt to know the truth had been concealed, and it was yet a mystery why or how this man had found his  way into his life under such circumstances, it was clear he had feelings for him now, feelings that we’re deep and reciprocal.

_ Betrayal and forgiveness. _

Will knew that very well. He was glad to have Allan’s forgiveness. It made him smile, genuinely. He licked his lips, taking a deep breath, then finished the whiskey in his glass before setting it down. He leaned back as well, stretching lightly, looking over at Fischer. “Good. Thank you, Allan. We - you - just need to think about the next move here. Whatever it is, that crazy son of a bitch needs to pay for what he did to your family.”

“We have to find him before my colleagues do. That won’t be easy. Who is this person. Why did he do it. What did he want. Was it random...yeah,” Fischer sighed, his words lisp more pronounced under the influence of the whiskey. “I should make coffee. Thank you, Will….for helping me with this.”

It was late but if they were going to work on this, then coffee would help so he nodded. “You’re welcome,” Will smiled, scrubbing both hands over his face. “I...I would need to visit the crime scene, or at least see photos…”

“I can take you there. We’ll go tomorrow. I know the guys who will be patrolling; they’ll let us at least see the area.” Fischer was up and walked into the kitchen, taking down coffee beans and the grinder, getting everything ready. He Opened the refrigerator and pulled out a small white paper package and a jar. “Want a sandwich first? I’m starving.”

“Sure. Sounds good,” Will agreed, nodding. He took a deep breath and stood up, walking over to stand next to Allan. “Yeah that would be good. Thanks. I am too.”

He leaned against the counter, watching Allan, utterly in love, even if he wasn’t overly romantic outwardly.  He was looking forward to seeing how Fischer would handle the asshole when they caught him. “Need help?”

The dark haired man could feel Will’s eyes on him, and he laid out the bread, placing a few slices of meat and cheese on each. “If you want to cut them in half, get the plates,” Fischer offered.

“Alright,” Will said and then looked around for the plates. Once he found them, he put the food on, then cut them. After that he got them the coffee and set it all on the table.

They ate quietly, Fischer sobering up as the coffee settled in and food got into his system. Once they were finished, he called Ingrid and she was immediately agreeable to asking Gry to watch Carl a few days; it made sense to give Fischer time to grieve and process the shock of it all. Gry would stop by first thing in the morning to pick the boy up.

***

The next day, Fischer made plans to go to Will’s flat and spend the day going over what information they could on the case from Fischer’s files. That night, they would go to the scene and see what insights could be gained if any. It gave them a chance too, to spend more time together after the revelations Will had made.

When they arrived at the scene, Will looked around. It had been a while since he’d done this. But it wasn’t a bad experience that he was about to now. It would serve him well, both of them, he hoped. Looking at Allan, he licked his lips as they headed to the area where the newlyweds had been shot. “I’ll just ah...need some privacy.”

Fischer had watched LaCour do this before, so he wasn’t totally unfamiliar with how it all worked. He patted him on the back, letting his hand linger with some affection to show he truly appreciated what he was doing. What it meant to him. “Thank you, Will. Of course. I’ll just be over here,” he said, opting to go talk to the cop on duty patrolling while Will did his thing. He made a point to seek out his deep blue eyes. “Thanks,” he said meaningfully.

Will was readying himself but at the touch, he turned and met Allan’s honeyed gaze. He smiled, his pupils dilating and nodded. “You’re welcome.”

As soon as Allan was gone, he closed stepped further into the crime scene and took a breath, closing his eyes. The pendulum began to swing, and back Will went, dried splotches of blood dampening and brightening, splatters on the train station wall flying off and into the bodies of the pair that waited, unknowingly. His breathing became shaky, his heart racing and then, back at the beginning he found himself.

_ “No warning was given. I see you there, laughing, kissing. Celebrating. A new love.” _

Will held up his hand, pointing a gun that wasn’t there, his eyes still closed, his body unmoved save for in his mind’s eye. He shoots her first, letting her new husband see.

_ “I will take from you, what is yours, what I can never have, and then i’ll take your life.” _

The empath smiled, inhaling sharply through his nose and then fires on the husband, right in chest, leaving the man to gaze upon his dead wife.

_ “I have nothing left. I’ve lost it all before, no one can or will save me. I want everyone to suffer as I am. This is my design.” _

Will came to, his breath hitching, eyes dark. He scrubbed a hand over his face and walked back to Allan.

“This wasn’t about taking what they had on them. This was about destroying something… beautiful. Two lives to pay for the one he is losing. You’ll want to check security footage, ticket records. It’ll be a man in his thirties, likely, with a terminal illness. He...he feels he’s been dealt a bad hand, so he’s out to change the luck of others. This won’t be the only time and he’ll likely seek out newlyweds. He may even have been left recently, or is divorced.”

Fischer listened intently, and his breath was taken away by the detail Will gave. They didn’t have any leads yet, but he know they were working on a profile, and he was eager to find out what they came up with and see how it compared with Will’s assessment. There was so little detail yet, it was hard to say. “That makes it complicated. It’s...I’m still angry yet, it’s easier to sympathize with someone who is suffering. He’s deranged though. I just don’t know. I don’t know Will.” he rubbed his chin. “My son is going to grow up without a mother. And he’ll kill again. We have to find him before he does.”

The policeman patrolman came up to them then. “Hey guys, can we wrap it up? I am the only one out here, and it would be good to clear the area, ja?” he muttered.

“Yeah, we’re going. Tak.”

“Yes, we have what we came for,” Will added, gruffly, still a little shaken up. As they walked out he turned to him and scratched his belly. “We’ll find him. We need to look at what your team has already. Then it’s just a matter of narrowing things down.”

Fischer’s phone rang then; it was LaCour. “I have to take this,” he said, and slid his finger across the screen. “ _ Hej _ ,” he quipped into the device.

He remained silent for some time, and finally spoke again. “Yes, I’ll be in right away. I’m not far.” Disconnecting, he turned to stare at the blue eyed man.

“You’re absolutely incredible. They assembled a profile with the same conclusions you reached. No one has been identified yet…”

“Thank you,” Will said with a smile. Back in the states he would often think of things that others from the department hadn't but he was glad there were others who could. The only problem now, was he needed to get this killer before they did.

***

Later that night, left alone with his thoughts, Fischer felt caught between what he desired in fantasy and what was the  _ right thing _ ; let his colleagues do their jobs. Grieve. Accept. Try to help his son. Yet vengeance burned in his veins. He didn’t know if he had the stomach to let it go.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Will kept his end of things. He searched, scoured, checking medical records with the train schedule roster list. He also knew that often, a killer would revisit the scene of the crime, so after studying the security camera footage, he waited. He went back to the scene once it was clear and began his hunt. 

A few days into it, he spotted a man who looked like the killer, who fit the description. With a look of a predator, blood lust surging through his body, he pounced.

***

Later that evening Will called Allan, and when he picked up the phone:

_ “Allan, I need you to come over. I… have something you will want to see.” _

Fischer felt his heart pick up instinctively at the sound of the man’s voice. There was something there. He wasn’t sure what it was. But he felt that pull in his chest.  _ “I’m coming right over,” _ he answered.

_ “Okay, see you soon.” _

Will smiled and then hung up. It gave him time to prepare, and that’s exactly what he intended on doing. This would tell so much about things, it had all lead up to this point. A precise moment of revelation, one way or another.

Fischer drove to Will’s house, mind spinning with thoughts of what he might have in store. Something he might want to see...he realized then that he did forgive Will for keeping from him the business about Hannibal. The pull in his chest leading him was strong.

He ran up the steps and knocked on his door anxiously. Will answered, a white button up shirt and jeans on. It was undone down to mid chest and while he was clean, there was a bit of sweat on his chest, accentuating well defined pectorals. He smiled and took Allan’s hands. “Please...come in.”

Fischer came in, his eyes immediately tracing down Will’s temping neck and the alluring strip of exposed skin. He almost forgot to breathe for a moment, and gasped audibly. “Sorry, hej hej.” Stepping inside the door, he looked around with a blush, trying to conceal his reaction. “What is it?”

“Hey.”

Will wanted to kiss Allan. It had been a while, but given the circumstances and with the fact that he wasn’t sure if everything was okay - even if he was picking up that it was - he didn’t. He smiled instead, and ushered him inside fully, shutting the door behind him. “I found him, Allan, he’s just in the basement. I think it’s time for... a  _ reckoning _ .”

Fischer felt his blood heat with vicious excitement, almost lightheaded from how quickly the lust surged to his chest. “ _ Truly _ ?” he asked, even as his mouth went dry in shock. Keen eyes darted around the room for clues to the man’s presence, but found none. He strode purposefully to the basement door and turned the knob. Locked.

“Show me…”

Will nodded, swallowing with an audible, exhilarated click. He followed, and gestured for Allan to go first. When they descended, the warm low lighting revealed a man gagged and bound. Not blindfolded. Will wanted him to... _ see _ . “He’s here,” he said, his tone rough and dark. “A... _ rude _ pig restrained and ready for slaughter.”

The Dane gaped in shock at what he saw, and he knew it was the man who’d killed Mitte and her fiancé. Bile rose in his throat but was quickly swallowed and replaced with rage. He charged forward and wrapped a veiny olive hand around the man’s throat, in that moment soaking in the fear in his eyes. It washed over him, and felt good. He felt  _ righteous _ .

“Your life is worthless.  _ You _ slaughtered innocent people and took my child’s mother,” he said in a low voice, searching the man’s eyes for remorse. He was met with none. Only fear for his life. It disgusted him. Allan remained there, holding his throat and staring. Something in the back of his mind pleaded for him to stop.

Will chose to observe as the bound man flared at the detective. This was for Allan. To help him become...in one way or another. Piercing blue eyes admired, tracing the flex of Allan’s hand, and the fire in those amber hues. He stepped back, slowly, just a couple of feet. “Do what you feel needs to be done. Take  _ care _ of him.”

Fischer’s eye caught sight of a blade and implements laid neatly on a table beside the whimpering man. Temptation burned in his veins, searing him like a hot flame. “How would it feel to kill a man that way? A blade to his belly, gutted like the pig he is, as you say? I don’t know if I…” he paused and in his mind’s eye, saw his boys face. Fischer felt his head grow light and he blanched, gripping the edge of a table and lurching to one side. Spitting out the bile quickly, he wiped his mouth, shaking his head.

“Will. This isn’t...it’s not going to bring her back, and I still have to look my son in the eye. If I kill this man, or watch you kill him, I can’t do that anymore. Maybe you’ll think less of me. I won’t kill him.” Fischer looked into Will’s eyes deeply, trying to show his humanity as clearly as he could.

Will could feel it. It was surprising and yet not all at once. What made it unique was seeing a man who so clearly looked like a younger Hannibal Lecter, be so kind. So loving. So forgiving. It was the test Will needed to see. But has Allan passed or failed? He didn’t feel disappointment. He felt...love. Walking over, Will touched Allan’s arm, squeezing gently. “You don’t have to...and...I won’t. If you don’t want me too. I didn’t used to be…” he trailed off, exhaling through his nose, lips pressed into a thin line before he gave an apologetic smile. “What would  _ you _ like to do then?”

“Take him in. Book him. He will spend the rest of his life rotting in prison. It’s a just end and death seems merciful compared to that fate. I don’t want his blood on my hands. I don’t want my son to lose his father too. I want him to be able to say his father is a decent man, at least…” Fischer was sweating from his feelings and thoughts moments earlier, and wiped his brow.

Will rubbed his jaw.  _ Justice _ . He’d been very much like Allan before…before Hannibal and had even pulled them off a cliff over it. To spare the world both of them. To keep himself from feeding the dark beast inside. He’d survived. And now? Now maybe he had a chance to find some semblance of who he’d been before — at least some of it. “Maybe while we’re at it...he also admits to killing the man in the woods and making the tableau.”

Two birds, one stone.

Fischer looked up sharply. “I...I see. That victim wasn’t innocent. He was a vile abuser. I suppose in some way this man feels he can play god, taking the lives of anyone he wants without consequence. Isn’t that what the law is about, though? Keeping us all on a level playing field, not allowing any one person to have the ultimate power over another? Making people answer for their actions. What separates us from animals? Morals? Reason?” Fischer rubbed his eyes and looked into Will’s deeply, searching his face for answers. 

“He didn’t kill yet, but he likely would have,” Will said, trying to send the message that he let this man take the fall for his crime, to clear his name so Allan and he could be together without worry. If Allan wanted. “Animals kill for survival. They kill competitively to further their species. This pig isn’t really a pig at all. He’s lower than that. He deserves to be put away in a cage if not sent to slaughter. And...when he goes, he can level my playing field.”

“Will, I need to know you’ll  _ try _ to...change. If you were ever caught, or worse, I couldn’t take losing you. I love you too much,” the Dane said, moving to pick up his hands and kissing his wrists.

It wasn’t the same subtle manipulation that Hannibal would have used to get Will to change, it was outright, full of love, and honest. It kept him from responding with a snarky comment. He nodded. “I love you too and yes...I will,” he said, closing his eyes when he felt the kiss as their captive sat watching. “Let’s finish this conversation upstairs.”

Fischer glanced at the man, still bound securely, and nodded. “He can wait a bit longer. Let’s do that,” he agreed, his hand moving to the small of Will’s back and sliding up, over smooth lean muscle and to the nape of his neck, where soft curls flipped up over the edge of his shirt collar. He just wanted to know Will would be safe, wouldn’t put himself either in harm's’ way, or in a position where he could be incarcerated. He himself had spent time in jail;, and it wasn’t pretty. Someone like Will he knew would do poorly in a place like that, even in Denmark.

Will enjoyed the feel of Allan’s hand on him, like a rush of warm water soothing his very tired soul. He smiled at him, and nodded, then lead him back upstairs. Once they were in the living room, he took the detective’s face in his hands and leaned in, kissing him on the lips. “I just...I needed that,” he said, licking his lips.

Fischer exhaled deeply and held the back of Will’s head, bringing him back towards his mouth And guiding him into another kiss. “Will,” he whispered softly as he licked deep into him, tongue caressing tongue, tasting him and releasing a low moan. “Perhaps I did too, min skat.”

Will’s heart rate picked up and he fisted Allan’s shirt, pulling him back in yet again, not satisfied with just those two kisses. He nipped at his lips, bloodlust from before unsated, lust of a carnal nature also unquenched. It had been too long. “Allan...I’ve missed you… missed this,” he whispered, more open than usual. He licked hotly into his mouth, his strong chest pressing against Allan’s through their clothes.

“Will,” Fischer responded in a hoarse whisper, fingers tugging up the bottom of his soft flannel shirt to feel the skin beneath. Palms skated over the smattering of light hair, over his belly and up his chest. He explored Will’s mouth with a hungry moan, his free hand cupping the back of his head possessively.

“I love you,” Will murmured in between kisses, walking back towards the wall, pulling Allan with him. His ass hit it with a soft thud and he hooked a leg around Allan’s, almost trembling with desire as he fed from the man he loved — and boy did he ever. “I don’t… I  _ can’t  _ ever lose you again.”

“Oh helvede, Will, I need you...I...I don’t want to lose you either,” he rasped, and sharp, crooked teeth scraped along the delicate skin of Will’s neck, sucking a light bruise there as he shoved the fabric of his shirt clumsily over his head. Cursing in Danish, he finished pulling it off, and, taking advantage of his raised arms, buried his nose in Will’s right armpit, rubbing his face in the silky soft, thick fur there. He smelled of soap and raw masculinity, a bit of salty sweat and a clean, rich musk that was uniquely his alone. Fischer craved it like air, and he moaned as he mouthed at him with an animalistic growl.

“Fuck,” Will groaned, finding the whole primal act to be a huge turn on. He rolled his hips, his erection pressing hard inside his pants. Allan wanting him that badly had his blood pumping; it was hot and rapid in his veins, passion consuming him. With his free hand, he wrenched his fingers through those dark, silky strands and held Fischer there. “Fuck me, Allan. I need you inside me. I want to feel all of you.”

Fischer was hard enough to cut glass, and his cock tented out his trousers obscenely as he lifted Will and carried him to the bed. Laying him down, he quickly shed his own clothes before leaning over the brunet to help him out of his, throwing them to the floor and climbing on top of him, eager to feel skin against skin. Pushing a thigh between Will’s legs, he claimed his mouth demandingly, feeling now that he knew what he hoped was everything, there was nothing more between them. “After this, Will, no more hiding, nothing else, you understand?” he whispered. “Nothing between us,” he said pulling back to look deeply in Will’s blue eyes.

“No lies, no sins of omission,” Will agreed, whispering with a grunt on the tail end of his promise. His vow. He wrapped his fingers around Allan’s biceps, kissing him once more, his cock leaking from the tip between them. He was met the detective’s amber gaze, lost and found all at once in them. His senses were alive, every cell of his being chanting out the same name, Allan, not Hannibal. Those ties...they were mostly severed now, though he’d always have a room for him in his own memory palace. It was different though, with Allan, they’d have something real, something tangible. There’d be no hurting one another, not in the way he’d experienced before. Maybe he was learning something else other than violence. Will panted. “Only… understanding between us. And love.”

Fischer rutted their cocks together, the slick pre come giving a delicious slide to the movement as he rocked his hips back and forth. He understood why Will had concealed the things he had, and it didn’t hurt any less, but he forgave him. What had overwhelmed him was the love he had for Will, and the sense that he felt the man’s sincerity and openness now. He himself had lied to people he lived in his past. He wasn’t without fault in that regard, and he knew it was possible to lie or at least conceal something - however wrong it was - and to still love someone deeply. “Yes, eskelede, only love,” he panted roughly.

Will hooked his legs around the back of Allan’s thighs, kissing him heatedly. He bit at his lips, hands caressing tawny flesh. He poured all of his love, all of his feeling into it. “Fuck...yes-“

Fischer reached between their bodies to wrap his hand around their cocks, holding them together as he stroked steadily up and down. He started slow and built up a rhythm, his tongue exploring Will’s mouth with a ceaseless hunger, ravenous and wanting. “Mmm…”

“Allan-“ Will gasped, panting between kisses, his cock hot and throbbing. His muscles tightened, not close to coming yet but oh did it feel good. He bit at Allan’s mouth, then sucked the lower lip, really savoring the kisses as he was pleasured. “I want you to fuck me.”

The Dane moaned at Will’s words, and raised himself up on one muscular arm to retrieve a bottle of lube from the nightstand. “Your wish is my command,” he rasped, accent heavier with his arousal. Dripping the thick fluid on his cock, he stroked up and down his shaft. Fischer pushed one thick thigh up along his torso, sitting up to kneel between Will’s legs and hitching his knee over his shoulder. Drizzling lube beneath his fat, furry balls, he rubbed an index finger over and inside Will’s tight entrance, working it in and out to ensure there was plenty in place. Inching closer, he began rutting teasingly along the seam, pressing only just the head at his pink pucker. “God you look good like this, spread out for me…”

Will raised a coy brow at that. He licked his lips, then bite his lower lip. “Yes,” he said huskily, his eyes nearly black with desire. Gripping his own cock, he pumped it, the veins in his muscular forearms bulging as he did. His breathing came faster, his hole twitching, begging to be plundered. He’d never felt so naughty, so dirty, and unhinged. “Only for you, Allan, now take me.”

Fischer bit his lip, sharp crooked teeth clamping down as he leaned down on his elbows, and looking in Will’s eyes, thrust inside him in one motion. The wet heat surrounded him, and he pushed in further with a growl. “Ah, for helevede skat, oh Will…”

“Fuck, fuck,” Will groaned, wrapping his legs around Allan’s waist, his nails going down his back. He kissed him again, then gazed at him, their bodies coming together perfectly. The cool breeze from the open window cooled their hot skin, the sounds of groans, breathing, and smacking already starting to resound in the room. “Feels so good.”

Fischer’s back flexed as he rolled his hips over and over, snapping them with deep, guttural grunts and fucking him deeper and harder as strands of hair fell across his forehead. His thick torso draped across Will’s, the fur of his chest tickling a smooth, peachy chest slick with sweat, and he caught a ripe, pink nipple in his mouth, sucking gently first, then nipping as it hardened. “You feel incredible…” he huffed.

Will moaned his reply, his back arching, legs falling onto the bed and open as he pressed his chest more against Allan. He slipped his fingers into his hair, looking down to watch him taste and suck his nipples. “You...ah, you do that so well,” he said, his hole stretched tight around the expanse of the detective’s impressive cock. “More of that, please.”

“Yes? More? You take me so well...gods...nothing is as good as this. It’s like you were made for me,” Fischer whispered, and angled himself just so, enough to drag his cock over Will’s prostate over and over now. He kept that up for what felt like forever, and began to stroke his cock as well, sucking hard bruises up the side of Will’s neck, marking him, claiming him. He had no idea how far this Hannibal had gone with him...but he wanted to erase him from Will’s memory, or at least fill him with so much of himself he wouldn’t need think of him again. He felt greedy and gluttonous for all of the American, every corner of him.

Hannibal wasn’t in Will’s mind in the least, he was focused on how good Allan felt inside him, how much he loved him, and how his life was changing yet again. Another becoming. He still had the beast inside, but maybe it would be better caged, reserved for only special occasions. “Allan, yes,” he groaned, heat coiling in his groin, his muscles starting to stutter in preparation for release. He gripped his hair, encouraging the bite, panting against his skin. “Fuck, I’m-”

“Fuck, Will, come on my cock, yes,” Fischer growled. He stroked him faster, his fist clenched around Will’s length as his palm slapped between them, every press in and out of his body aimed toward one goal. “Come with me, min skat, oh fuck...Will...Will…” Fischer gasped and howled suddenly, bucking against him like a wild animal as he plunged inside and emptied his seed inside him rapturously.

The way Allan was speaking to him had Will writhing. He’d never been with someone like that and he was burning alive with the fires of lust. His breath came faster, watching Fischer come, and he roared, his body tensing as he shot hot, thick come out of his cock. He clamped around his lover’s dick, coming only one second after him. “Allan, Allan, fuck, yes!”

Fischer held on to Will, dark fingers digging into the side of his hip with one hand, the other gripping his cock as come shot out thick over his knuckles. He took his mouth even as the words spilled forth, rough, biting kisses, nipping the edge of his lip with a sharp tooth and a drop of blood smearing between their mouths as he fed messily from him. “Will...oh my Will...my beautiful Will…jeg elsker dig, Will. I love you and only you.”

Will bit back, their blood mingling as they kissed and came down from the high of their orgasm. It was perfect. They were joined now, in all ways imaginable. “Yours,” he murmured, holding Allan’s face in his calloused, fisherman’s hands. He licked his lips, come dripping from his used hole. It was dirty and romantic all at the same time, and he smiled as he looked into his lover’s eyes. “I love you too. Just you. You need to...to know that. I don’t want anyone else.”

Fischer knew what Will was saying, and it gave him pleasure to hear the words. He took his hands and brought them to his lips. “I take your words to heart, at face value Will, and I believe you. I’m just as much yours, you know. My heart, all of me, are yours, handsome Will…” he ran his hand down the side of the brunet’s face to cup his jaw, peppering kisses along the edge.

With an almost shy grin, Will kissed him back, wrapping himself around Allan as the sweat cooled on their skin. He felt his cock soften, and his heart rate slow. “Words like that have never been...easy for me, so...I’m glad you do and that you are,” he said, drawing a slow breath. He pushed Allan off with his hips, only to hook his leg over it, so that they were both on their sides. “I want to sleep with you just like this, but we still have our problem in the basement.”

“We do. We are going to turn him in, right? It’s what I want to do,” Fischer said seriously. “It’s not the easy thing, but it’s the right thing. I want my son to grow up to respect his father, and I don’t want to lie to him. I can’t...I’ve done that before, Will. It’s not who I am,” he said, shaking his head, his amber eyes meeting Will’s full on.  

“Yes,” Will agreed, stroking Allan’s cheekbone. His blue eyes were warm, not showing his darker side now. There was...a bit of light there. “He will pay for his crimes, plus one.”

It would clear Will’s name of course, so it was at least a bit more justice for the vile man in the basement, since death was off the table -- that is unless he got the death penalty, though Will wasn’t entirely sure about Denmark in that regard. “We’ll do it how you want, Allan. You have my word.”

Fischer kissed his lips and leaned their foreheads together. “Good.”

They went downstairs and prepared the man to bring him in, giving him details about the other murder that he could repeat if asked, and detailing exactly what would happen to him if he went back on their agreement; A very slow, very painful death. The man agreed, just grateful he wasn’t going to die.

***

A few days passed and the man was in jail, the authorities linked him to the killing in the woods as well as Allan’s family. Everything was falling into place. Will still needed to meet Allan’s son though, so tonight that was on the docket. Will showed up at his lover’s home at half past six. Dinner. He was a little nervous. The allure of a family, at least one of his own making, had never appealed to him. He knew better than to breed, but this was different. It wasn’t a ready made family lacking true love, like with Molly. No, he loved Fischer, so he hoped that his son would… approve of him.

Will took a breath and knocked on the door.

The rich, buttery sweet scent of brunede kartofler and sausages filled Fischer’s modest cottage. Little Carl was in short pants and a button down shirt, knee high socks and shoes. Not too fancy, but dressed better than he would normally be for playing. Fischer was kneeling down and straightening his collar, and patted his cheek, giving him a kiss on his nose. “You be a good boy tonight when you meet papa’s friend, ja?” he said.

“Ja, papa, I want to meet mister Will!” the tiny blond child exclaimed.

When he heard the knock, he opened it, the shy toddler hiding behind his pant legs and looking up with enormous brown eyes.

“Come in, min skat, hej…” backing up, he chuckled at the little one still looking up bashfully. “This is my son, Carl. Carl, this is Will, papa’s very special friend. Say hello,” he prodded.

The boy smiled and stuck a chubby hand out. “Hi, Will, I’m fweee,” he giggled.

Will’s loving eyes went from Allan, to the little boy. He smiled and gently took his hand, shaking it. Letting go, he chuckled. “Hey there, Carl. You’re a big boy, just like your papa said,” he greeted, crouched down to meet his eye level. He looked up at Allan. “Hey, you. He looks like you.”

Fischer blushed with pride, patting the child’s head lightly and grinning down at him. “He’s a good looking lad. Thank you. It means a lot to me to have you meet him, Will.”

The toddler reached out and pointed at Will’s glasses and clapped. “Glass-suss!” he exclaimed happily.

“I’m glad to meet him,” Will said to Allan, rubbing his arm. He looked back at the child and laughed. “You want to wear them for a bit?” he asked, taking them off. It was more for show than anything, they weren’t even prescription and wouldn’t hurt the boy. “But only if your papa is okay with it. You’ll have to take good care of ‘em too. I know you will though.”

Carl’s mouth went into a small “o” of wonder, and he looked up at Allan to see if he was alright. When he nodded, the boy reverently took them from Will and gasped, holding them like they were very delicate. He looked up at Will with a playful smile and then started to try to put them on his own face. “Eppee?” he asked somewhat politely.

“Ahh, he wants you to help him try them on,” Fischer explained, gesturing. “Careful, love.”

Will was entirely enchanted with the adorable little boy. He smiled warmly, and nodded. “I’ll help you, yes,” he said softly, still crouched. The frame was far too large for the little toddler, but he helped, and then gently ‘booped’ his nose. “Look at you. You’re all grown up now, aren’t you?”

“Smawt,” he bragged, putting his hands in his pockets and sticking his short legs out in what could be described as his depiction of the confident walk of an adult. He looked at his father out of the corner of his eye for approval as Will smiled and nodded.

“How handsome and smart you are, musling. We should take a picture, but then you must give them back to Will and we can have dinner,” he said, pulling out his phone to take a picture. The wee boy was a bit distracted playing, but he got a good photo, and after returning the glasses safely to Will, the trio made their way to the dining room.

Fischer got Carl into his booster seat and tied a bib around him so he wouldn’t soil his nice shirt. “Have a seat, Will. I made a very traditional Danish meal, potato and sausages, I hope you will like it.”

“Sounds delicious, and smells that way too,” Will nodded, smiling at Allan and then at Carl. He sat down and splayed his hands on the table.

The Dane served Will a plate of food, and a smaller one for his son, cutting the meat and potatoes into little pieces he could pick up with his fingers. He gave him milk in a sippy cup, and beers for himself and Will.

“Skål,” he said with a smile, tilting his bottle towards Will.

“Skål,” Will replied back, tipping his at Allan and then took a big drink from it. He licked his lips and set it down, eyeing the food. It looked amazing and he was famished. The empath took a bit and swallowed after chewing. “It’s very good, thank you.”

“Keht-awfleh,” Carl said slowly, little pink lips forming each syllable deliberately as big eyes blinked at Will. “Poe-tay-toe!” He held a potato between two greasy little fingers with great concentration before popping it in his mouth and giggling.

“Very good, Carl!” Fischer praised him with a smile. He turned to Will. “He’s trying to teach you Danish, you see?  _ Kartofler _ is Danish for potato,” he explained.

That was the most precious thing. Even a man like Will Graham felt it. The love from Allan and the child was overwhelming. Something he’d not felt in years, actually ever. He felt himself blush from it, an entirely different sort of flush, and he laughed softly, rubbing his jaw. “Tak, Carl, I am lucky to have you both as my teachers,” he said, rubbing the boy’s arm affectionately. He then repeated the word and looked at Allan. “You’re a lucky man to have him.”

Carl beamed at Will and then looked down shyly. “Selv tak,” he said in a quiet, polite voice. Fischer reaches over to dab a crumb of sausage from his cheek. “You make your papa proud _. _ ” He took a drink of beer and reached over the table to take Will’s hand and squeeze it. “I’m lucky to have both of you,” he said meaningfully.

Will rubbed his thumb along Allan’s hand, his blue eyes trained and focused on the Dane’s. He hummed. “We are all lucky,” he said, then looked at Carl and finally back on Fischer. “I...I feel as though I’ve finally found family...and home.”

***

Fischer had bathed and changed little Carl, and had the boy tucked into bed. He had told him days earlier about his mother, about death, and it wasn’t something he’d ever wanted to explain to a three year old. Carl had cried, but the only part he thought he understood was that mama wasn’t coming home. It wasn’t because she didn’t love him; she loved him very much. But she couldn’t.

Telling him had taken all the strength he had, and he felt completely devastated afterwards. But tonight, after meeting Will, and seeing how Carl took to him, it was the first time since then he’d felt hopeful. He’d felt the light back in his heart. Carl would be okay. There was enough love between them to raise him to be strong and good and know he was cherished. Fischer felt sure of it, and finally, certain of what he wanted.

***

Once the little tot was asleep, Will and Allan went into his room and Will sat on the bed next to his boyfriend just a few feet away. He smiled over at him and took his hand, sensing...something. “Are you okay? C’mere closer, talk to me,” he insisted, his tone low and husky, but still comforting.

“But of course you’d know. You can always work me out, allerkæreste. Yes, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” Allan said, sitting beside him and taking his hand. He kissed it, full lips brushing over each knuckle, and looked deep into his eyes.

Will looked back, feeling so much emotion, so much love. He wet his lips and smiled, furrowing his brows in a curious, not unpleasant way. “I...I’m all ears,” he said with a little chuckle. He never liked his own ears, so the pun was amusing to him. A reprieve from the situation, not that it was a bad one at all.

“Having to tell Carl about his mother was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But seeing him with you tonight gave me hope. You’re so good with him, he took to you right away. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone before. I want you in our lives, Will, forever. Would you...Will Graham, will you marry me?” he asked, knowing if he drew it out too long, he might lose his nerve. The brunet was so handsome, and he felt so overwhelmed with emotion.

Immediately, Will’s heart began to race, time slowing down in contrast. Everything up to this moment replayed in a flash, like some sort of a movie, bending and moulding, shaping to the rhythm and aesthetic of their love. He wasn’t really a romantic at all, but he loved Allan, and he was very fond of Carl too. Love would and was already growing there. The proposal was perfect, Will didn’t need anything showy or garish. Just raw emotion, and a purpose stated clearly. He appreciated that immensely. He leaned forward, a smile on his lips and kissed Allan softly. “Yes,” he whispered, breath ghosting over Fischer’s full, shapely mouth. “I will. I want this. I want us to be a family together.You, Carl, and myself. A few dogs.”

Five dogs. Seven. Ten. But that would come later.

He was just...happy.

“Jeg elsker dig, Will. I’ll get you a proper ring and all, I promise, but I couldn’t wait. Seeing you tonight with my son, I just knew. I knew from the way he looked at you and the way you spoke to him that we are meant to be a family. I’m yours forever,” he said with a smile, kissing him in return, one hand wrapped around the back of Will’s head, tangled in his curls.

Will knew it too. Fate and Circumstance. Once again he was reminded of Hannibal, but this time, it was different. No pain, no pining. It was a farewell. He felt he had...his blessing, somehow, and it was time to move on. Start a new. He finally had room in his mind for the things, and importantly the  _ people _ , he loved. Wrapping his arms around Allan, he smiled. “The ring doesn’t matter s’long as I have you and we have each other.”

Was the darkness gone? Allan had changed him. Just as  _ he _ had changed Hannibal once. A becoming, or an undoing. From the shadows, he was finding the light. Maybe that was just fine.

“I love you, Allan.”

 


End file.
